Classic Poem

Lean out the window: down the street
There's lovely music flowing—
It floods the gutters, wets the feet,
A brook of silver, bright and sweet,
A jet of jewels blowing,
A gush of golden drops that fly,
It bubbles far, it splashes high
Until it glistens in the eye
Of every twinkling passer-by.

Hold out your hand, let each round note
Be lightly caught and felt there—
Oh, hear the sprays of soft sound float
Around your hair, against your throat,
Across your mouth to melt there.
Leap down the stair, the doorstep, run
Along the sidewalk in the sun
To smile upon that strolling one,
Tugging at his accordion.