The Voice Of One Who Goes Before,

I Know The Lands Are Lit, With All The Autumn Blaze Of Goldenrod.

Gazing Around, Looking Up At The Lofty Pinnacles Above, Which Seemed To Pierce The Sky, Looking Down Upon The World,--it Seemed The Whole World, So Limitless It Stretched Away At Her Feet,--feeling That Infinite Unspeakable Sense Of Nearness To Heaven, Remoteness From Earth Which Comes Only On Mountain Heights, She Drew In A Long Breath Of Delight, And Cried: "at Last! At Last, Alessandro! Here We Are Safe! This Is Freedom! This Is Joy!

The Voice Of One Who Goes Before, To Makethe Paths Of June More Beautiful, Is Thinesweet May!

I Shall Be Found With 'indians' Engraved On My Brain When I Am Dead. A Fire Has Been Kindled Within Me, Which Will Never Go Out.

O May, Sweet-voice One, Going Thus Before, Forever June May Pour Her Warm Red Wine Of Life And Passions,--sweeter Days Are Thine!