We didn't start the fire burning
Said Hicksville's most sagacious poet
Yet for all the world still turning
It feels as if there's something to it.
I saw what I'd not seen before
I have seen what I'd not seen again
And yet I thought that what I saw
Was something that I saw back then
That feeling is the sense defined
By walking in Columbia's glades
A newer world than left behind
Yet full of memory's dim shades.
He didn't do it, didn't act
Within the compass of his days
And yet he feels the chilly fact
That he had trod those unknown ways.
She didn't say it, says it still
That wasn't said and yet it seems
Against her knowledge and her will
She said it once before —*in dreams?
You know it's new and never seen
A never-never scene to you
And yet it hovers in between:
These words, that act, this deja vu.