. . . in Hidden Passage, where so few had ever come, was a new kind of wonder for me, related less to time than to eternity, akin to something greater than mankind. . . . No simple prose was adequate. Poetry, perhaps? I got out my notebook and pencil and tried:
To Hidden Canyon come with reverence.
It is a holy place, this nautilus,
This mighty, spiral-chambered carven shell.
Step softly here where seldom man has trod --
So Adam walked in Eden's virgin dell
That still lay dewy from the hand of God.But what good were such words as these, telling those who would never come the proper manner of their coming?
--CID RICKETTS SUMNER