God stands before you in these trees.
To make our world, liké theirs, a shrine;
Sink down, Oh, traveller, on your knees.
REDWOODS
Author
Joseph. B. Strauss
Builder of Golden Gate Bridge.
Here, sown by the Creators hand,
In serried ranks, the Redwoods stand;
No other clime is honored so,
no other lands their glory know.
The greatest of Earth's living forms,
Tall conquerors that laugh at storms:
Their challenge still unanswered rings,
Through fifty centuries of kings.
The nations that with them were young,
Rich empires, with their forts far-flung,
Lie buried now- their splendor gone;
But these proud monarchs still live on.
So shall they live, when ends our day,
When our crude citadels decay;
For brief the years allotted man,
But infinite perennials' span.
This is their temple, vaulted high.
And here we pause with reverent eye,
With silent tongue and awe-struck soul:
For here we sense lifes proper goal;
lo be like these, straight, true and fine.
