Hark to the ewe that bore him: "What has muddied the strain? Never his brothers before him Showed the hint of a stain." Hark to the tups and wethers; Hark to the old gray ram: "We're all of us white, but he's black as night, And he'll never be worth a damn."
I'm part of people I have known And they are part of me; The seeds of thought that I have sown In other minds I see. There's something of me in the throne And in the gallows tree.
There's something of me in each one With whom I work and play, For islanded there can be none In this dynamic day; And meshed with me perchance may be A leper in Cathay.
There's me in you and you in me, For deeply in us delves Such common thought that never we Can call ourselves ourselves. In coils of universal fate No man is isolate.
For you and I are History, The all that ever was; And woven in the tapestry Of everlasting laws, Persist will we in Time to be, Forever you and me.
