Robinson Jeffers

Contrast

The world has many seas, Mediterranean, Atlantic, but
       here is the shore of the one ocean.
And here the heavy future hangs like a cloud; the
       enormous scene; the enormous games preparing
Weigh on the water and strain the rock; the stage is
       here, the play is conceived; the players are
       not found.
 
I saw on the Sierras, up the Kaweah valley above the
       Moro rock, the mountain redwoods
Like red towers on the slopes of snow; about their
       bases grew a bushery of Christmas green,
Firs and pines to be monuments for pilgrimage
In Europe; I remembered the Swiss forests, the dark
       robes of Pilatus, no trunk like these there;
But these are underwood; they are only a shrubbery
       about the boles of the trees.
 
                    Our people are clever and masterful;
They have powers in the mass, they accomplish marvels.
       It is possible Time will make them before it
       annuls them, but at present
There is not one memorable person, there is not one
       mind to stand with the trees, one life with
       the mountains.
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