Original (inglés)

Dillon Wallace L.H. Here, b'y, is the issue of our plighted troth. Why I am the scribe and not you, God knows:          and you have his secret. D.W. "There's no sense in going further—it's the edge of cultivation," So they said, and I believed it... Till a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated—so: "Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges— Somet