A Mendocino Memory

I climbed the canyon to a river-head, And looking backward saw a splendor spread. Miles beyond miles, of every kingly hue And trembling tint the looms of Arras knew— A flowery pomp as of the dying day, A splendor where a god might take his way. ∗ ∗ ∗ It was the brink of night and everywhere Tall redwoods spread their filmy tops in air; Huge trunks, like shadows upon shadow cast, Pillared the under twilight, vague and vast. ∗ ∗ ∗ Lightly I broke green branches for a bed, And gathered ferns, a pillow for my head. And what to this were kingly chambers worth— Sleeping, an ant, upon the sheltering earth.