It all began when the blind seers
Took the step and trusted their sight.
It was dark, the night was cold,
The storm had dropped, places were damp
When the torch-bearers brought their light.
Their words were warm, their speeches tuned.
That was all it took to steal some hearts.
Yet, just before the fowl could yawn,
A little before the dark could bleach,
Away they bolted with everything;
Walking sticks, clothes, shoes and all.
But the seers didn’t see that coming
Since they be not like those
That do see with their ears
And trust not in high-sounding words.