I was the first to spot that glory flowing
From cliff to basin, coupling cloud and land—
A godsend for my journal, but rough going.
 
I was the first to note in a clear hand
Its height and spate, certain my words would claim
What savages had only scratched in sand.
 
I was the first to fix a Christian name
On the great hindrance we had hit upon—
It vexed us like a heathen all the same.
 
The damned thing beaten, I sat up till dawn
Ignoring what was missing, since I knew
That part of me had quit the corps and gone
 
To serve there, hushed and worshipping the view,
No matter what we went on to subdue.