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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=403109" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Telephone</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=403109" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Your voice, beloved, on the living wire, <br>Borne to me by the spirit powerful <br>Who binds the atoms and leaps out to pull <br>Great suns together! Ah, what magic lyre, <br>Strung for God's fingers, sounds to my desire <br>The little words immortal, wonderful, <br>That all the separating miles annul <br>And touch my spirit with your kiss of fire! <br>What house of dreams do we inhabit—yea, <br>What brave enchanted palace is our home, <br>Green-curtained, lit with cresset stars aglow, <br>If thus it windows gardens far away, <br>Groves inaccessible whence voices come <br>That soft in the ear call where we may not go!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Harriet+Monroe">Harriet Monroe</a></strong></div>

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