When early stars down twilight pathways rove
And deep-set, leaf-set cañon streamlets croon
Their canticles unto the crescent moon,
What rare enchantment fills the redwood grove!
Gone is the net of care that Daylight wove,
The toil and weariness of afternoon,
And up from crimson sea and rose lagoon
Night drives her dreams, a misty, drowsy drove.
These redwood dreams! The silver Mission bells,
The footprints of the Padres, fading fast,
The sails adventurous that decked the shore;
Then on and on into the purple past
Where redwood after redwood softly tells
Mysterious tales of immemorial lore!
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