Pour your life into the forest green, escalate
The mountainous nobility of heights, inhale
And, liberal at last from ancient service, flee
The bitter of remorse whose savor has
Your heart. Under the coursing dawn
March where you will, tread on
The rudest trails. Advance and go down
Into the solitary hidden
In the things you see.
Hurry!
But give ear to the rhythm of your course:
Because the wilderness moves in a confused
Enchantment and a muse
Sings the song of our source.
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