Great voices of the past

Speak to us in whispers

Words that always seem to last

The wisdom of the drifters

Poets tell us how to feel

Playwrights, how to act

Echoes from their tombs long-sealed

All because they had a knack

The lives we live belong to us

But history's the dead's

Shape your world but do not fuss

When words rise from grave-beds

Without the past we cannot be

But eyes turned back can never see