3o8 



Sierra Club Bulletin. 



teeth as she laughs; I see her sHm white limbs and the 

 ripple of her long bright hair. She runs with swift 

 feet; she pauses not; she wins her way to her play- 

 fellow, the river, who lifts her daintily over the rocks 

 and carries her far, far, through the resisting mountains. 



And Yosemite is a poet in a dream, a poet questioning 

 the sky. Tall as a moonbeam, slim as a reed, swayed to 

 and fro by the drift of his dream, he poises light white 

 feet on the heavy earth and crowns his brow with the 

 blue. His dream is of all beautiful things; of moony 

 nights and flowers a-film with dew, of rainbows that 

 sparkle with many colors, of the blue-veined arms of 

 happy maids; even of the beauty of sadness dreams he, 

 of lovers separated forever, of death hushing the voices 

 of little children. Always in his house of light and 

 mist he listens and sings and sighs, and holds the secret 

 in his heart; that none may dream his dream, nor tell 

 his tale of the beauty of it. 



And Nevada, haughty Nevada, is a warrior queen 

 whose soul love takes unaware. She goes forth armed 

 for battle; of silver is her breastplate, of silver and 

 jewels her helmet, and her right hand carries a spear. 

 But suddenly she hears a voice and turns; she gazes, 

 and the heart of her is changed. She catches up filmy 

 draperies and robes herself like a bride; she shouts with 

 new joy, she leaps to her cataract lover on the path of 

 the winds. And down in his green gorge he clasps her 

 close and bears her singing onward. Stern and tall and 

 straight is Vernal, her shining round-armed lover; robed 

 in whitest sparkle of white, beautiful and strong. In 

 him the soul of falling waters is a hero, proud of his 

 triumph. He heaps up Happy Isles for his beloved, and 

 films their flowers with his breath. He hews out the 

 earth to build them; he hurls the rocks from his path 

 and commands the mountain to make way. And all the 

 immovable things hearken and obey, for the will of 

 falling waters none shall gainsay. 



