Of all the souls that stand create <br />I have elected one. <br />When sense from spirit files away, <br />And subterfuge is done; <br /> <br />When that which is and that which was <br />Apart, intrinsic, stand, <br />And this brief tragedy of flesh <br />Is shifted like a sand; <br /> <br />When figures show their royal front <br />And mists are carved sway,-- <br />Behold the atom I Feferred <br />To all the lists of clay!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-all-the-souls-that-stand-create/
