Song of the Open Road 



33 



We must save the heart of the Sierra while we may. Always 

 there stretches out to us the beckoning finger of the unattain- 

 able. The Yosemite, the Yellowstone, Glacier Park, even the 

 recently remote Tuolumne Meadows, unrivaled in their dif- 

 ferent appeals, already are becoming crowded. He who learns 

 to know them wants to go on beyond, along the harder, un- 

 traveled paths. Solitude, that greatest healer of the soul of 

 man, is his great necessity. He will, he must, have the place 

 where it may be found, and that place is, and will remain, the 

 High Sierra. 



SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD 

 By Walt Whitman 



A FOOT and light-hearted I take to the open road. 

 Healthy, free, the world before me, 

 The long brown path before me leading wherever 

 I choose. 



Henceforth I ask not good fortune, I myself am 



good fortune. 

 Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no 



more, need nothing, 

 Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous 



criticisms, 



Strong and content I travel the open road. 



