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 missile into the air,
It fell to earth, I know not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward in an oak
I found the satellite, still unbroke;
And the missile, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.