The Voice by Sara Teasdale

Atoms as old as stars,

Mutation on mutation,

Millions and millions of cells

Dividing yet still the same,

From air and changing earth,

From ancient Eastern rivers,

From turquoise tropic seas,

Unto myself I came.

My spirit like my flesh

Sprang from a thousand sources,

From cave-man, hunter and shepherd,

From Karnak, Cyprus, Rome;

The living thoughts in me

Spring from dead men and women,

Forgotten time out of mind

And many as bubbles of foam.

Here for a moment's space

Into the light out of darkness,

I come and they come with me

Finding words with my breath;

From the wisdom of many life-times

I hear them cry: "Forever

Seek for Beauty, she only

Fights with man against Death!"