Gedichten

The arrow and the song.

I shot an arrow into the air,

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 song into the air,

it fell to earth, I knew 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 arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"O'er the broad heath bowstrings twang,

while high in air the arrows sang

the iron shower drives to flight

the foeman from the bloody fight"