HOLD your pace a moment, here beside me
In this place above the city;
Such a hill affords a view of things abstract,
That whisper softly in the silences
Beyond us . . . beyond our boundaries
Of pain and pride and prejudice.
Take my hand; and now, within the mind
And heart, you hear the overtone
I hear . . . distant . . . low,
But growing full and strong,
Like the swift approach of birds
Above the earth . . . vibrant, eager,
Toward this place whereon we stand
Do you hear it within the breast ...
Clear ... alive ... eternal?