Juan Lepe marched with the footmen.

He was glad to find Luis Torres.
Before setting out we went to mass in the new church.

Candles burned, incense rose in clouds, the friars chanted, the bell rang, we took the wafer, the priest lifted the chalice.
The sun rose, the trumpets rang, we were gone.

South, before us, the mountain line was broken by a deep notch.

That would be our pass, afar, and set high, filled with an intense, a burning sapphire.