This dream went by, with the dead man’s words.

They reached the highest crest. Before their eyes

The hill-scape opened like a mighty vision

That, quietly, has come true.

They stood there, dumb,

To see what they foresaw, the invisible thought

Grown firm as granite; for, as a man might die

In faith, yet wake amazed in his new world,

They saw those chains of dead volcanoes rise,

Cone behind cone, with green truncated crowns,