Before a man had sung a note
Or a song bird warbled in its throat,
The winds were whipering through the trees 
Wild prehistoric melodies
Prophetic of the days to come
When man would make him harps to strum
The halls of heaven with music rang
The morning stars together sang,
Prophetic of the voice of him
Who chants of choiring Seraphin
From chaos the orchestral seas
Were forming polyharmonies.
No song is new, Man sings and rings
Times changes in eternal things;
His voice prophetic of a long
Lone silence to succeed his song.