by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I know not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in it's flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I know not where;
For how has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of a 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.