I. I Heard The Ancient Forest Talk, (Its Voice Was Like A Wandering Breeze): It Said, "Who Is It Comes To Walk Along My Paths When, White As Chalk, The Moon Hangs O'Er My Sleeping Trees? What Presence Is It No One Sees?" Ii. And Then I Heard A Voice Reply, That Seemed Far Off Yet Very Near; It Sounded From The Earth And Sky, And Said, "A Spirit Walketh Here, Whom Mortals Know As Awe And Fear. Terrible And Beautiful Am I." Iii. And Then I Heard The Meadows Say, (Their Voice Was As The Sound Of Streams, Or Rain That Comes From Far Away): "Who Sits Amid Us Here And Dreams, When Sunlight On Our Blossoms Gleams, And Keeps Us Company All Day?" Iv. And Then I Heard A Voice Intone, A Voice Not Near Yet All Around: "I Am That Spirit, Yea, Thine Own, Who Worketh Wonders In The Ground: Some Call Me Love That Hath No Bound, And I Am Beautiful Alone."