Letters to a Friend 



strong to leap Yosemite walls at a bound. 

 Hotels and human impurity will be far below. 

 I will fuse in spirit skies. 



Farewell, or come meet in ghost between Red 

 Mountain and Black on the star-sparkled ice. 



Love to all thine and to Moores and Stod- 

 dard. 



Yosemite Valley, 



June yth, 1873. 



I came down last night from the Lyell Gla 

 cier, weary with walking in the snow, but I for 

 got my weariness and the pain of my sun-blis 

 tered face in the news of your coming. 



I would like you to bring me a pair or two of 

 green spectacles to save my eyes, as I have some 

 weeks of hard work and exposure among the 

 glaciers this fall. They are sore with my last 

 journey. All of the upper mountains are yet 

 deeply snow-clad, and the view from the top 

 of Lyell was infinitely glorious. 



Thanking God for thee, I say a short farewell. 



Kellogg has not yet appeared, nor any of the 

 other friends you speak of. 



