< Century Magazine < Volume 48 < Issue 2
If human voice may on the plastic disk
Breathe into being forms of beauty rare,
And we may see the voices that we love
Take shape and color, infinitely fair,
May not the lofty mountains and the hills
Be voice of God; his song, the gentle flowers;
His chant, the stars’ procession, and alas!
His only sigh, these human hearts of ours?
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