i shot an arrow into the air,
it fell to earth, i knew not where;
for, so swiftly it flew, the sight
could not follow it in its flight.

i breathed a song into the air,
it fell to earth, i knew not where;
for who has sight so keen and strong,
that it can fallow the flight of song?

long, long afterward, in an oak i found
the arrow, still unbroke;
and the song, from beginning to end,
i found again in the heart of a friend.

/henry longfellow/