In solitude I hear faint whisperings
From some ethereal sphere where once I lived
And loved and learned before I came here through
The door of birth. And oftentimes when I
Firm-clasp a stranger's hand across the miles
Or at my door, I hear the distant bells
Of some far Temple where we both have knelt;
I breathe the fragrance of the jasmined-air
Of a celestial garden; hear the song
Of an aeolian harp that once was strummed
By heavenly winds ... I hear faint whisperings--
Perhaps the breath of immortality.
