Contents Part One Page Pioneer Voices

Home , Ina Coolbrith

McClur Co . A . C. g I91 7

em e 1 1 Published N ov b r , 9 7 M . N D L . L . A . L A R . To . M . . G J , .

TO OTHER FRIENDS I N SANTA BARBARA W HO TAU G HT M E T HE LOVELINESS OF CALIFORNIA

CONTENTS

P art One PAGE PIONEER VOICES

Part T wo

VOICES OF THE GREAT SING ERS

Part T hree

LIVI NG VOICES

INTRODUCTION

IN PREPARI NG this collection o f verse for publi

ha two ! cation , I have d purposes ﬁrst , to make an

— - interesting book the ancient and ever living pur f l e —and pose o al makers O f good literatur second , to give to all who may desire it a volume of poems that sing and celebrate the traditions, the life , and the natural beauty o f one o f the greatest common n r wealths in the union . The roma ce and ha dship, the gayety an d the heroism o f the days o f the padres

a and the later pioneers , the adventurous d sh and ’ o f -niners ﬂare the forty , the rich , golden health and prosperity o f all the days that have followed the pioneer period — all these things are most vivid and colorful history an d tradition and have had no smal l part in creating for Californians that heritage o f naive and ﬁerce affection — belligerent devotion to — their commonwealth and its life and customs by which they are known and with which they startle the quieter and cooler hearts o f men and women o f

r o f mo e staid and sober states . All these things have

C and as inspired alifornia poets visiting poets , read o f ers the following pages will know . But, most of C all , I think , the poets love alifornia for that unique natu ral beauty often obscured rather than suggested I! Intr o duction

f f by the trite and dull e fusions in praise o it . Her

mountain peaks Chiselled singly, Clean and hard sk or n e e against the y, ra g d in an august uneven lin o f power and beauty ; her lovable fo oth ills sloping

to - in steep curves the coast ; her mild , sweet scented valleys with their straitly conﬁned orchards o f n almond , ora ge and plum , with their crisp ﬁelds o f barley stubble in summertime and their riot of wild mustard in the spring ; her winding trails leading always into El Camino Real or into the desert beyond the mountains ; her gusty distances of desert o r s ea shore ; her forests born before Christ ; her hundreds o f species of wild birds ; her tawny sum

mers and green winters ; her sharp , exquisite lights — no and shadows and keen colors these things poet , c an n o lover o f beauty can forget . Nowhere else o ne climb higher o r plumb deeper the depths and

heights o f varied beauty . Many songs o f many singers bear witness to this o f beauty . A large anthology could be made the po ems that have been written abo ut o ne ﬂower

es cho ltz ia o r C . o f the , alifornia poppy It is the duty

o f the antho logist to choose the coins best metal , f best minted in this treasury o verbal expression .

And that is what I have tried to do . Critics are cer tain to tell me that I have left o ut many poems just

as good as many that I have included , and they will

be telling the truth . George Sterling has written Intr o ductio n

many poems as good as those that I have chosen , but

l c I could not choose them al . Other criti s are sure to blame me fo r including po ems with imperfections o r poems o f a type and kind not to their taste . I f I m m s a ight gently disarm such criticis I would y, ﬁrst

O f e all , that poems with imperf ctions , like people

c e . with imperfe tions , are not necessarily valu less r A s a we we know few perfect hum n beings , know few

o perfect p ems . And just as it sometimes happens that the man o r woman with no vices a man o r ” is s o e e woman with no aggressive virtues , it som tim s happens that po ems with faults and ﬂaws are so vigo rously and sincerely written as to be superior

o to creati ns more artiﬁcial and correct . Such poems — — and there are quite a number o f them are in ‘cluded in this book because they seem to me to give the real zest and ﬂavor Of the scene o r event d o f o f escribed , in spite their faults , course , and not

. s because of them It seems fair, al o , to tell critics

who and others may be interested , that I have tried not to be governed Overmuch by perso nal taste

a f in the m king o this book . All anthologists are

h o f tempted to be autocratic . But this is t e day e o i n o r d m cracy . I have included this book two

o — I al — three p ems sh l never tell which that I ,

no t mysel f , can read without acute mental suffering . h Let me tell w y . e o One evening , while I was delib rating ab ut one . xii In tr o duction

h poem which I dislike, but which as been exceed in l g y popular, I entered the public library in New Y C . as ! ork ity And while I w standing at the desk , awaiting my turn to ask for much needed informa t t ion, a quie , plainly dressed, little woman with tired eyes turned to the attendant at the desk and asked fo r the very poem I had in mind I want to get it ” “ ’ fo r she and and copy it my sister, said , I don t know what book to ﬁnd it in and I have looked and looked I read it a long time ago and never was and forgot it. !The attendant young had never heard o f the poem . ) I told her that I would ﬁnd it

V she for her and I did . ery gratefully thanked me . ” o u ? Then I said , Do y like that poem very much “ ” “ es es she Oh , y ; y , indeed , said humbly ; it is a — great poem a very great poem . When I left her

I copied it and put it with those for this book . Perhaps a few readers will be surprised to ﬁnd in this book poems by poets who have only visite d

s a o n the coast . In answer I can only y that I have — felt that in a sense California belongs to us all not only to the native sons and daughters , but to the many who have been refreshed and strengthened '

n . a d healed by sojourning there And I have felt, a b C lso, that all the poems inspired y ali fornia belong to Cali fornia and may rightly be used in a book of o this kind . But whenever it has been p ssible I have given the preference to poems by western poets who Intr oducti on xiii have made their reputations in the West or wh o are now living there and deﬁnitely associated with the

West. The ﬁrst poem in the book is one of the old folk

o f o f a songs the days the padres , a di logue folksong with much of the naive spirit o f childhoo d an d play was in it . It always sung in Spanish in the early days but has recently been translated into English M r n s . by Eleanor Hague , who learned it from Fra cisca de la Guerra Dibblee o f Santa Barbara, and has included it with a number of other Spanish Cali fornia folksongs in a book which will soo n be published by The Folklore Society . The second r l poem , The Song, is taken f om a long poem ca led ”

. C Juanita, written by Lauren E rane in the very early days o f California literature and published in

o f Overland M onthl one o f the early numbers the y . fo r It deserves especial mention , it is most gracefully o f written with every appearance spontaneity, and yet keeps true to a complicated rhyme scheme that f n would tax the skill o a y poet . The three long lines in each stanza are thrice rhymed , having two internal rhymes and one end rhyme each . This is surely o ne of the cleverest and most eff ective rhymed lyrics ever written by an American , for the art disguises itself and the poem loses no warmth and charm , and gains melody from the rhyming . I Saw it ﬁrst in that helpful book by Ella Sterling xiv Intr o du ction

Mr Mi h l s . e s The S tor o the Files Cummins ! g ) , y f , to which bo ok I recommend all readers who wish to know more of many poets whose work is found in ’ these pages . The third poem , The Days o f Forty ” o ld f f nine , is an folk ballad o the days o the gold C n rush , and no alifornia a thology is complete with it o ut . who Nobody knows wrote it , and several so versions are extant , but , in far as I know , all

have the same chorus ,

For the s o f Old the s o f G o d Day , Day l ’ A n th e s o f For - d Day ty nin e .

The other poems included in the collection seem to

e m fﬁ h me to r quire no com ent . Su ce it to say t at I have tried to represent all types and kinds o f poetry that have been written in the state by at least one

selection . The m atter o f classiﬁcation has been very difﬁ

fo r cult , almost all of the poems included in the book have been written since 1 870 and almost all o f the poets have lived in the day and generation that we

n o r o ur k ow that was known to mothers and fathers ,

and are therefore contemporaries . Therefore I have decided to name in a group together those poets

whose reputations are national and international , M C M Joaquin iller , Ina oolbrith , Edwin arkham and the others called Voices o f the Great Singers and to classify the others in two groups Pioneer In tr oduction xv

— Voices those whose singing is done or whose work belongs to the period that prepared the way — fo r the great singers and Living Voices those who are still singing o r whose work by its type and kind belongs to today . I very much regret that it is impo ssible to include in this volume any

who o ne o f the poems by Ambrose Bierce, should be ” - r — Pioneer Voices . He was o is the pioneer lit c o f the o n the rary critic coast , the ﬁrst to insist intel lectual values in literature as opposed to the purely S h fl entimental values , and he has done muc to in uence the younger Cali fornians o f today and even the great

ca f singers . I n best describe him in the words o M f e C c . Bail y illard , himself a clever ali ornia criti B km Mr M f A m o o cm . o Writing in the , illard says

’ ’ brose Bierce He revered nobody s Opinion but his o wn , and in this idea he was upheld by a ﬂattering

ho literary coterie w acknowledged him as master . These Constituted an esoteric cult whose adulation

e Bierce accepted as a matter Of course . Th y laid

their literary work before him , rejoiced in his praise ,

however stinted , and received his harshest criticism without a murmur For technically his pen

was ho o n craft of the purest, as is s wn nearly every

p age . He prided himsel f o n being ruled wholly by i ” ntellect , never by emotion . Robert Cameron Roge rs is classiﬁed with Livmg V ” H oices , although he died several years ago . e xvi In tr o duction belonged rather more to the present generation than to the pioneers , and would not be a very old man i f he were living today . Special attention should be called to the fact that ﬁve poems included in this volume are taken from

The S tan or d B ook o Vers e f f , a college anthology o f unusual merit published last year by The English

’

f ! the oems Club o Stanford University . They are p M C M l by arjorie harles Driscoll , Dare Stark , axwel m ff i G ero d . Anderson , Ja es Leo Du , and Robinson Many poems have been taken from the ﬁles o f

Over land M onthl s the y, a magazine with a gloriou history and many great names to its credit Many S uns et others have been printed for the ﬁrst time in , now which is the best known of western magazines . — Others several o f the most ﬁnished and crafts — manlike poems have been taken from that bright little magazine edited by Gelett Burgess and called L ark o ne o f the , the gayest and wittiest o f Ameri can o f its magazines and great reputation , although history was only two years long . In that magazine

Gelett Burgess made the purple cow famous . A number of excellent poems also have been printed fo r G ra hic the ﬁrst time in the Los Angeles p , w o f hich , under the editorship Samuel Travers C was l lover, the best literary periodica in the South

w . P oetr A M a azi ne o est for several years And y, g f Vers e C has , although it is published in hicago , pub

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The thanks o f the compiler o f this collection o f poems are due to the following publishers and pro

r ieto r s o p o f material used in this b ok , for their kind permission to reprint it .

T o A o e s o fo r T he B ck V e f o m . M . R b rt n la ultur r he Hous e o Or chids eo e e for Th e T f by G rg St rling, and ” “ ” Vo i ce o f the Dove and Th e L as t Days fro m B ey on d the B r eak er s G e o e e and f o r fo by rg St rling, A Cali rnia ” S o ng and Fo re st Co uplets from A California Tr ou ba d our e ce U m for A s m e o o by Clar n r y , and I Ca D wn M unt m s f om A in ta e o Ve rs e e ce U m Ta alpai r V g f by Clar n r y, and fo r N e ro fro m The S tar Tr eader and Other P oems k A h o m h by Clar s t n S it . T o H o ughto n Mifflin Company fo r E1 Cane lo from ” The P oe tical Wor ks o B a ar d T a lor for T he e s f y y , Ang lu , ” ” e e e h th e B e f om Th e P oe t R v ill , and W at ull t Sang r “ ic al Wor ks o f B e e f o r On P c e o f o r t Hart , a i tur M unt ” S ha sta by K e ith fro m th e P o etical W or ks o f Edward “ ” “ o fo r fo and he the s s R wland Sill , Cali rnia W n Gra ” Shall Co v e r M e from S ongs fr om the G olden G a te by oo h fo r W d o f om A L onel Ina C lbrit , and in y M rning r y u te e he d Fl by Od ll S par . T o o ed P e om fo r T he M an h D ubl ay, ag C pany wit “ the Hoe and Joy o f the Hills f rom The M an with the Ho e and Other P oems by Edwin Markham and fo r T he ’ H e art s R eturn from The S hoes of Happines s by Edwin kh m Mar a .

T T h ' ntur o f P n h o e e . r e o C y C o El oni nte a d St . J n ” o f Nepo m uc from The N ight Cour t and Other Ver s es “ h o m fo M che for T he W h Fee o f by Rut C rt it ll , and ite t this e A de o L ﬁer A t by H nry n rs n a .

! I! xx A ck nowledgm ents

T o W e P sh o m she s o f Harr agn r ubli ing C pany, publi r ’ “ o i e s o m e e o s f or Y o s e m e Val J aqu n Mill r C pl t W rk , In it ley and the s hort lyri cs by J o aquin M ill e r includ e d in thi s o m e fo r T o the o o o e s e f o m Th e L ur e v lu , and C l rad D rt r o the D es e r t e o s W e fo r N h in f by Madg M rri agn r , and ig t ” Camp and M o rning in Camp from S on gs fr om P uget B h f S ea by H e rbert as o rd . T o m d om for T he Bed o f F e S all , Maynar C pany l ur ” d e - L y s from In T his Ou r Wor ld by Ch arlotte Pe rk in s m f o r fo o f the o h f om S e a D r i t Gil an , and Cali rnia S ut r f by Grace Elle ry Channing . T o L e B o and om for B d o f the ittl , r wn C pany A alla f om P em e e c s o G old Country r o s by H l n Hunt Ja k n . ” T o Funk W agnalls Company fo r Indirectio n from h lf Poems by Ri c ard Re a .

T F e e ck A S ok e s o m f o r o o e an o r d ri . t C pany C y t d Pre s idi o Hill from A t the S ilver G ate by J ohn Van c e e e Ch n y . T o T h e Macm illan Com pany for L et U s G o Hom e to ” f i r nian o so eff Paradi s e rom Cal fo s by R bin n J e rs . ” T o the John L an e Com pany fo r T he Ro s ary from The e o me o o e s R os ary and Other P o ms by R bert Ca r n R g r . ’ ” T0 Charl e s S cribn e r s S o n s fo r In the States from ’ hild s G ar d en o Ve r s es o e L o s e e s o fo r A C f by R b rt ui St v n n , Th e B ell s o f San Gabri e l fro m P oems of Char l es War “ t ar d e e b oo h fo r W e s e r e n S odd , dit d y Ina C lbrit , and t rn h m k s Blood by Juli et Wilbur T o p in . “ T o Mitchell Kennerley fo r In th e Valley from Fr om o c h the Eas tern S ea by Y o n e N gu i . T o Elde r Shepard fo r A W edding- Day Gallo p from

P oems by Ir e n e Hardy .

fo r T o P e o h c f om T o Paul Eld e r Co . al lit i M an r e N e m Ou t of B ondage by Fanny Hodg s w an . ” T o Raph ae l W e ill fo r El Vaqu e ro by L u c iu s Har F w ood oote . h B L n thl and to T e . co T o the Over land M o y . ippin tt ” J Po ck Company f o r Evening by Edward llo . A ck nowle dgm ents xxi

T o T he Engli sh Club o f Stan ford U nive r s ity f o r ’ ” “ Y o h s o s x e A e so A m e s ut S ng by Ma w ll nd r n , at ur by “ e o d o so T he o o f h om s the h me C r i R bin n, S ng T a R y r by “ ” M o e h e s s co e o o o s me s arj ri C arl Dri ll , Mat r D l r a by Ja “ ” L eo u ff and L ck e h e s e e D , u by Dar Stark, all t b ing k m t ta e n fro A B ook of S anfor d Vers e . T o Fran z Bo as and T he Folklore S oci ety for Ele ano r ’ Hague s tran slation o f O Blan ca Virgen a T u Ventana ” T o S uns et Magaz ine fo r T he Y e ar s and A Califor ” h F e f r h m n ia E s e s s es . d o T e a t r Ma by C arl K i l , Ca p ﬁre e de e s o for o o f e by Margar t A laid Wil n , S ng Cradl ” “ ” M k o s ce L d s k e for W e e s s a ing by C n tan in ay S inn r , ir l ” e e rso L aﬂ e r f o r d ec o ch d by H nry And n , In ir ti n by Ri ar Realf fo r o do ! o h e s s G a le , El D ra A S ng by C arl M ill y y, ” f or n A o h c Mac G o n ook A bal ne S ell by G ra e wa C e . “ ” T o the Overland Monthly for The S ong !from ” f “ N ’ e . e or ew Y e s Juanita ) by Laur n E Cran , My ar ” ” es s o M e fo r N h m G . and u t by R llin Dagg tt, ig t in Ca p “ ” “ o m e e B s hfo fo r the M rning in Ca p by H rb rt a rd , In ” “ o e h F L mm s f r es . o s mm e s M jav by C arl u i , M id u r Ea t ” “ W e s V - W ood s and fo r e and t by , irna Ev ning by d Po ock E ward ll .

T o the o e s of the fo o oems o wn r ll wing p , riginally printed the L ar k T o V e k s T he e in , irginia by H nry At in , Cr ed o f es e B ce Po e o f ir by ru rt r, S ng o r the New Y e ar D A l “ ” and de at Noo G e e B es s Ebb Ti n by l tt urg .

T o Poetr A Ma azine o Vers e for S oh y, g f , t. J n o f N e omuc h om fo che e h e no p by Rut C rt Mit ll , N it r Spirit r B d u s B Be ch ir by Mary A tin , Santa arbara a by Ridge l e o e ce T o o h h P so y T rr n , My M untain by Ma da ay n , In the oh e P ck Or r T he W M av by atri , ate r Ou z el by e o oe T o the mme Harri t M nr , and Su r Sun by Margue rite i k i W l n son .

T o the L os A ngeles Gr aphic for the se ri e s o f poems ” c d e P e B o and for alle In a Gard n by aulin arringt n , Wl th the ee s e e W k s Tr by Margu rit il in on .

T o the Bos ton Pilot for Old Glo ry by Emma Frances ‘ so Daw n . xxii A ck nowledgm ents

T o the ten- Bo sch Company for The Trail from Fi eld N ote k s by David At in s .

In every case where it has been possible , permis sion to use po ems has been secured not only from the h t e . owners of copyrights , but from authors of poems The following poems are used by special permission o f the poets who made them T h e M o untain by Edward Rob eso n Taylor ” “ B e s o f s o T he hi d e r ll San Juan Capi tran , C l H a t “ ” n P e s c P e e s h e e e e a d ad e ro bbl by C arl s K l r . “ ” h e s h Ph s Ip ig nia in Auli by C arles illip . h ch o In Te a api by David Starr J rdan . m e h e kh m In an Ala eda Fi ld by Anna Cat e rin Mar a . ” Each in His Own Tongu e by William He rbert Car ruth fo oh c r rt M G oa . Ju st Cali rnia by J n S . y ” Z h o m o e Whe n e p yr s Bl w by Sa u el Trave rs Cl v r . m B o e In Car el ay by Madge Cl v r . m s B o m c h h Whe n Al o nd lo by Mili ent W a s burn S inn . ” F c W k e T he Cauldron by ran i s al r . f h o h e e M c Brid B e Wind o t e S ut by J nni e utl r . Cali fo rnia Poppi e s and Cali forn i a by Mary Caro e s lyn Davi . h e h o k Y o se mite Strophes by C arl s W arton St r . F c At the Ste v en s o n o untain by Walla e Irwin . - — A h e G old o f Ophir Ros es by G race t rto n D enn e n . ’ T o the Y oa th s Compani on and to Warren Chen ey; I am “ ” e f r th u s e o f to e e e on indebt d o e January, and H rb rt H r “ r m h ood and the B ookman fo T o Willia Vaug n M y .

’ S he Il l . Then to a bird turn my being, M a e y ﬂight shall take me , my ﬂight shall t k

me from ﬂower to ﬂower .

’ he o ak S . A live I ll be amid the boulders .

A ’ He . S clinging ivy I ll clasp thee near .

’

S he . . As a nun , hood and cowl I ll be wearing

H ’ e . . Saintly confessor , thy voice I ll hear

he S . Through convent portal , if thou shouldst

enter,

Dead thou wilt ﬁnd me among the ﬂowers .

He . Among the ﬂowers , i f dead I ﬁnd thee , ’ ’ To earth I ll turn me, to earth I ll turn me , and ’ mine thou lt be . T he Golde n S tate

THE SONG

!From Juanita

T O-NIGHT the stars are ﬂowing gold ;

The light South wind is blowing cold ,

Es ta es mi lucha ?

o old The bright , bent m on is growing ,

Es cu cha !

Now test thy pride , and fearless prove , — m — m Now blest y bride y peerless dove, uanita J , C ome rest beside me here , sweet love ,

Er es bendita !

Through tall and silent trees there seems f T o fall the promise o fair dreams . Querida !

How all the starry white air gleams .

—s What dream , Juanita fancied bliss Could seem so sweet a trance as this ?

Dul ur c a, Or beam warm as thy glance or kiss ? A lma pura ! Golden S ongs of

What bliss to hold my fairy prize ,

! on - One kiss y star gold , wary eyes, Qu e gloria !

- Old P Saw this in far aradise ,

M em oria !

But Eden held no face like thine ;

No r creed in perfect grace like mine . Qu e pas ci on ! To read thy tender ways divine

Es mi ad or aci on !

Adieu ! I linger here too long

For you my ﬁngers sweep too strong . Qu e Di os a ! Be true to singer and to Song !

A di os ! Her m os a

E Crane . L aur en .

THE DAYS OF ’FORTY NINE

old T om M Y OU are looking now on oore , A relic of bygone days ; too A bummer, , they call me now , But what care I for praise ?

For my heart is ﬁlled with the days of yore,

And oft I do repine , T he Golden S tate 5

For the Days o f Old and the Days of Gold

- And the Days of Fo rty nine .

o f Oh , my heart is ﬁlled with the days yore And oft do I repine

Fo r o f o f the Days Old , the Days Gold , ’ - And the Days of Forty nine .

who I had comrades then loved me well , A jovial saucy crew !

There were some hard cases I must confess , But they all were brave and true ; ’ c Who would never ﬂinch , whate er the pin h ,

h e Who never would fret nor w in , But like good old bricks they stood the kicks ’ - In the Days o f Forty nine .

i Refra n .

o f . Oh , my heart is ﬁlled with the days yore , etc

— ’ ’ There was Monte Pete I ll ne er forget

The luck he always had .

He would deal for you both day and night ,

So long as you had a scad . H e would play you Draw , he would Ante sling, He would go you a hatful blind 6 Golden S on gs o f

But in a game with Death Pete lost his breath ’ - In the Days of Forty nine .

R e r ain f .

is . Oh , my heart ﬁlled with the days of yore , etc

There was New York Jake a butcher That was always a- getting tight ;

on Whenever Jake got a spree ,

as f r He w spoiling o a ﬁght . One day he ran against a knife In the hands o f o ld Bob Cline So over Jake we held a wake ’ f - In the Days o Forty nine .

R e r in f a .

Oh , my heart is ﬁlled with the days of yore , etc.

was Rack ens ack who There Jim , could outroar f ! A bu falo bull , you bet

He would roar all night , he would roar all day , ’ ’ And I b lieve he s a- roaring yet ! One night he fell in a prospect hole ’Twas a roaring bad design Fo r in that hole he roared o ut his soul ’ — In the Days o f Forty nine .

o f Oh , my heart is ﬁlled with the days yore , etc. T he Golden S tate 7

C old There was poor lame hes , a hard case

Who never did repent . C hes never missed a Single meal ,

Nor he never paid a cent . C But poor lame hes , like all the rest ,

Did to Death at last resign , Fo r all in his bloom he went up the ﬂ ume ’ f - In the Days o Forty nine .

R e rain f .

o f Oh , my heart is ﬁlled with the days yore , etc .

A nd now my comrades all are gone , Not one remains to toast ;

They have left me here in my misery ,

Like some poor wandering ghost . '

And as I go from place to place ,

Folks call me a Travelling Sign , “ M u Saying There goes Tom oore , a b mmer, sure , ’ ” - From the Days o f Forty nine .

o f Oh , my heart is ﬁlled with the days yore , And o ft do I repine

Fo r the Days of Old , the Days of Gold , ’ - And the Days of Forty nine .

A u thor k w Un no n. Golden S on gs o f

A BALLAD OF THE GOLD COUNTRY

DEEP in the hill the gold sand burned The brook ran yellow with its gleams ; C lose by, the seekers slept, and turned

And tossed in restless dreams .

At dawn they waked . In friendly cheer

’ e m o ne Their dr a s they told , by , by one ; r c A nd ea h man laughed the dreams to hear,

But sighed when they were done .

Visions o f golden birds that ﬂew ,

o n Of golden Cloth piled fold fold , O f rain which sho ne and ﬁltered through The air in showers Of gold ;

f Visions o golden bells that rang,

c Of golden hariots that rolled , f c Visions O girls that dan ed and sang, With hair and robes of gold ;

Visions o f golden stairs that led f Down golden shafts o depths untold, Visions o f golden skies that shed

Gold light on seas of gold .

10 Golden S on gs of

The ruddy hills were gul fed and strained ; The rocky ﬁelds were torn and trenched m The yellow strea s were drained and drained ,

Until their sources quenched .

The gold came fast ; the gold came free ;

as The seekers shouted they ran , Now let us turn aside and s ee How fares that husbandman !

No mine as yet, my friends , to sell ” No bride to show , he smiling said

But here is water from my well , ’ ” And here is Wheaten bread .

” Is this thy tale ? they jeering cried ; “ ? Who was it followed luring shapes r ? A nd who has won It seems she lied , ” T o f ! , he maid purple grapes

When years have counted up to ten ,

He an swered gaily , smiling still ,

c Come back on e more , my merry men , ! And you shall have your ﬁll

Of purple grapes and sparkling wine ,

And ﬁgs and nectarines like ﬂames , 'And sweeter eyes than maid ’s shall shine ” In welcome at your names . T he Golden State 11

In scorn they heard ; to scorn they laughed The water and the Wheaten bread We ’ll wait until a better draught ’ ” F r o th . y bride s health , they said

The years ran fast . The seekers went

All up, all down the golden lands The streams grew pale ; the hills were spent ; ran Slow the golden sands .

And men were beggars in a day, For swi ft to come was swift to go ; What chance had got chance ﬂung away ’ On o ne more chance s throw .

' And bleached and seamed and riven plains ,

And tossed and tortured rocks like ghosts , r A nd blackened lines and Charred remains ,

And crumbling chimney posts ,

For leagues their ghastly records spread

Of youth and years and fortunes gone,

sad Like graveyards whose , living dead

Had hopeless journeyed o n .

The years had counted up to ten as One night , it grew chill and late , The husbandman marked beggarmen

Who leaned upon his gate . 1 2 Golden S o n gs of

HO ! here good men , he eager cried , Before the wayfarers could speak ; h T is is my vineyard . Far and wide

For laborers I seek .

This year has doubled o n last year ; T he fruit breaks down my vines and trees ;

Tarry and help till wine runs clear , k ” And as what price you please .

P urple and red , to left , to right , Fo r miles the gorgeous vintage blazed ; And all day long and into night

The vintage song was raised .

A n d wine ran free all thirst beyond , And no hand stinted bread o r meat ; ’ e f And maids were gay and men wer ond , ‘ f And hours were swi t an d sweet .

The beggarmen they worked with will

h e T eir hands wer thin , and lithe , and strong ; ’ he o Each day t y ate two go d days ﬁll ,

They had been starved s o long.

The vintage drew to end . New wine was From thousand casks dripping slow , And bare and yellow ﬁelds gave Sign

For vintagers to go . T h e Golden S tate 1 3

The beggarmen received their pay , h Brig t , yellow gold , twice their demand ;

The master , as they turned away ,

Held out his brawny hand ,

! And said Good men , this time next year My vintage will be bigger still ; C a ome back , i f ch nce should bring you near , ” And it should suit your will .

T h e beggars nodded . But at night They said ! N0 more we go that way ; He did no t know us then ; he might ” Upon an other day !

Helen Hu nt Jacks on .

MY NEW YEAR’S GUESTS

88 1 On M h e ce m e 1 1 V . ! idnig t, D b r 3 , , in irginia City the wall photograph s o f ﬁve hundred Cali fornia pi o nee r s )

T HE winds come cold from the Southward , with

o f incense ﬁr and pine , And the ﬂying clouds grow darker as they halt and

fall in line .

The valleys that reach the deserts , the mountains h t at greet the clouds , 14 Golden S on gs of

o f Lie bare in the arms Winter , which the gather

ing night enshrouds .

o n The leaﬂess sage the hillside , the willows low

down the stream , ' And the sentry rocks above us have faded all as a

dream .

o f And the fall the stamp grows fainter , the voices

Of night sing low , spelled from labor the miner toils through the

dri fting snow .

s it o f As I alone in my chamber , this last the dying

year, o f Dim shades the past surround me , and faint through the storm I hear Old tales o f the castles builded under shelving rock

and pine, ’ O f the bearded men and stalwart , I greeted in forty nine !

The giants with hopes audacious , the giants with

iron limb ,

who The giants journeyed Westward , when the trails were new and dim ! h The giants w o felled the forests , made pathways

over the snows , ' And planted the vine and ﬁg-tree where the manza nita grows ; ! d Who swept down the mountain gorges , and painte the endless night T he Golden S tate 1 5

m With their cabins rudely fashioned , and their ca p ’ ﬁres ru ddy light ; who Who builded great towns and cities , swung

back the Golden Gate , A nd hewed from a mighty ashlar the form o f a sovereign state ; Who came like a ﬂood o f waters to a thirsty desert plain And where there had been no reapers grew valleys

Of golden grain . Nor wonder that this strange music sweeps in from

the silent past , And comes with the storm this evening and blends into strains with the blast ; No r wonder that through the darkness should enter

a spectral throng, And gather around my table with the old time smile and song ;

Fo r on l o in o f i there the wa l bef re me , a frame g lt

and brown ,

o f old are With a chain years suspended , faces looking down ; — Five hundred all grouped together ﬁve hundred old Pioneers Now list as I raise the taper and trace the steps o f the years ; Behold this face near the center ; we met ere his

locks were gray, 1 6 Golden S o n gs o f

His purse like his heart was open ; he struggles for

bread today.

o ne his To this the fates were cruel , but he bore d n bur e well , And the willow bends in sorrow by the wayside

Where he fell . Great losses and grief crazed this o ne ; great riches ’ turned this one s head ; ' — And a faithless wife wrecked this one he lives but

e were better d ad . ’ Now closer the light on this face ; twas wrinkl e d when we were young ;

o ur His touch drew footsteps Westward , his name n was o every tongu e .

was Rich he in land and kindness , but the human

deluge came ,

And left him at last with nothing, but death and

deathless fame . ’ Twas a kindly hand that grouped them , these faces O f other years ; o The rich and the p or together, the hopes and the smiles and tears O f some o f the fearl ess hundreds who went like the

Old knights O f , The banner o f empire bearing to the land o f blue

and go ld . a s Fo r years have I watched these sh dows , as other

I know have done ,

1 8 Golden S on gs o f

The shallow graves by the roadside , all , all have come back tonight ; '

And the mildewed years , like stubble, I trample under my feet ; And drink again at the fountain when the wine o f li fe was sweet ; “ And I stand once more exalted where the white pine frets the skies dream in the winding canyon where early the

twilight dies . s f Now the eyes look down in adness , the pulse o the year beats low ; The storm has be en awed to silence ; the muﬂled

n o f ha ds the snow ,

o f Like the noiseless feet mourners , are spreading a pallid sheet ’ o f the O er the heart dead December, and glazing

Shroud with sleet . ! Hark the bells are chiming midnight, the storm

bends its listening ear, While the moon looks through the cloud rifts and

- blesses the new born year . t Bar closely the curtained windows , shut the ligh

from every pane, While free from the worldly intrusion and curious eyes profane I take from its leathern casket a dented old cup o f

tin , T he Golden S tate 19

M to n ore precious me tha silver, and blessing the

draught within , I drink alone and in Silence to the Builders o f the West ”

Long life to the hearts still beating, and peace to the hearts at rest ! ”

R ollin M D a e tt. . gg

EVENING

T HE air is chill , and the day grows late , And the clouds come in through the Golden Gate ; P hantom ﬂeets they seem to me , From a shoreless and unsounded s ea ;

Their shadowy spars and misted sails ,

al Unshattered , have weathered a thousand g es

10 ! in Slow wheeling, squadrons gray,

They part , and hasten along the bay ;

o f Where the hills Saucelito swell ,

M o any in gl om may shelter well , ‘And others behold unchallenged pass By the silent guns o f Al catraz NO greetings o f thunder and ﬂame exchange

The armed isle and the cruisers stran ge .

Their meteor ﬂags , so widely blown , NVere blazoned in a land unknown ; 20 Golden S ongs of

w r o r So charmed from a or wind tide ,

Along the quiet wave they glide .

h ? — a W at bear these ships wh t news , what freight Do they bring us thro ugh the Golden Gate ?

h o Sad ec oes to words in gladness sp ken ,

- And withered hopes to the poor heart broken .

Oh , how many a venture we Have rashly sent to the shoreless s ea !

How many an hour have you and I ,

Sweet friend , in sadness seen go by ,

o ur e While eager, longing thoughts w re roving Over the waste for so mething loving

Something rich and chaste and kind , T o brighten and bless a lonely mind ; And only Waited to behold ’ ff ’ Ambition s gems , a ection s gold , ” Return as remorse , and a broken vow

In such ships o f mist as I s ee now .

The air is chill and the day grows late

And the clouds come in through the Golden Gate , t woe Freighted wi h sorrow , heavy with ; But these shapes that cluster dar k and low Tomorrow shall be all a-glow !

In the blaze o f the coming morn these mists ,

Whose weight my heart in vain resists ,

Will brighten , and shine and soar to heaven , T he Golden S tate 21

In thin white robes like souls forgiven ;

Fo r Heaven is kind , and everything , h as . As well as a winter, a spring So praise to Go d ! Who brings the day That shines o ur regrets and fears away ;

the can For blessed morn I watch and wait ,

o While the clouds come in through the G lden Gate .

Edwar d P ollo k c .

INDIRECTION

o FAIR are the ﬂ wers and the children , but their subtle suggestion is fairer !

t he ro seburs t o f Rare is dawn , but the secret that Clasps it is rar er ; h Sweet the exultance of song, but the strain t at pre cedes it is sweeter ;

e And nev r was poem yet writ , but the meaning out

mastered the meter .

u idet Never a daisy that grows , but a mystery g h the growing ;

Never a river that ﬂows , but a maj esty scepters the ﬂowing ; h Never a S akespeare that soared , but a stronger

than he did enfold him ,

No r ever a prophet foretells , but a mightier seer

o hath f retold him . 22 Golden S ongs of

o f Back the canvas that throbs , the painter is hinted and hidden ; t Into the statue hat breathes, the soul of the sculptor is bidden ;

o o f Under the j y that is felt , lie the inﬁnite issues feeling ; Crowning the glory revealed is the glory that crowns

the revealing.

Great are the symbols of being, but that which is symboled is greater ; V ast the create and beheld , but vaster the inward creator ;

O f o f the Back the sound broods the silence , back gift stands the giving ; Back O f the hand that received thrill the sensitive f nerves o receiving .

as Space is nothing to spirit, the deed is outdone by the doing ; he T heart of the wooer is warm , but warmer the heart o f the wooing ; 'And up from the pits where these shiver and up from the heights where those shine

an d Twin voices shadows swim starward , and the f essence o li fe is divine . Ri chard Real f. T he Golden State 23

EL CANELO

NOW saddle El Canelo ! the freshening wind Of

morn ,

o e D wn in the ﬂowery v ga, is stirring through the corn ; The thin smoke o f the ranches grows red with com ing da y Q the be steed is ﬁercely stamping, in haste to

away .

M - v y glossy limbed Canelo , thy neck is cur ed in

pride ,

Thy slender ears pricked forward , thy nostrils straining wide ; And as thy quick neigh greets me and I catch thee

by the mane, ’ o ff o f I m with the winds morning, the Chieftain o f the plain !

see o ur I feel the swi ft air whirring and along track ,

ﬂint - o From the y paved sierra, the sparks g stream ing back ; And I clutch my riﬂe closer as we sweep the dark

deﬁle, Where the red guerillas ambush fo r many a lonely

mile . 24 Go lden S o n gs o f

They reach not El Canelo ; with the swiftness of a dre am ’ the a We ve passed ble k Nevada , and San Fernan ’ do s stream ;

on But where , sweeping gallop , my bullet backward

sped , The keen - eyed mountain vultures will wheel above

the dead .

’ ! C ! e On on , my brave anelo we ve dash d the sand and snow

e far From p aks upholding heaven , from deserts

below , ’ We ve thundered through the forest , while the crack

ling branches rang, ff And trooping elks , a righted , from lair and covert

sprang .

’ — ’ We ve swum the swollen torrent we ve distanced in the race P n The baying wolves o f inos , that pa ted with the chase And still thy mane streams backward at every thrill

ing bound , And still thy treasured hoof- stroke beats with its

morning sound .

The seaward winds are wailing through Santa ’ Barbara s pines ,

CALIFORNIA

W A S it the sigh and shiver o f the leaves ?

o f Was it the murmur the meadow brook, That in and o ut the reeds and water weeds

o n e l Slipped silverly, and th ir tremu ous keys Uttered her many melodies ? Or voice

sea O f the far , red with the sunset gold ,

That sang within her shining shores , and sang

h e Wit in the Gate , that in the suns t shone A gate o f ﬁre against the outer world ?

For ever as I turned the magic page

old o o ld O f that s ng the , blind Singer sang Unto the world whe n it an d song were young

The ripple o f the reeds , or Odorous , So ft sigh of leaves o r voice of the far s ea A mystical , low murmur , tremulous

o f Upon the wind , came in the musk rose ,

The salt breath of the waves , and far , faint smell

Of laurel up the Slopes of Tamalpais .

Am I less fair, am I less fair than these , Daughter o f far-o ff seas ?

— - Daughter o f far-o ff shores bleak over blown 29 30 Golden S ongs Of

m With foa of fretful tides , with wail and moan

O f waves that toss wild hands , that clasp and beat the Wild desolate hands above lonely sands , Printed no more with pressure Of their feet That chase no more the light feet ﬂying swift

Up golden sands , nor lift ’ Foam ﬁngers white unto their garments hem ,

And ﬂowing hair Of them .

! are For these are dead the fair, great queens

dead , The long hair’s gold a dust the wind bloweth Wherever it may list ;

The curved lips , that kissed

o f Heroes and kings men , a dust that breath ,

Nor speech , nor laughter, ever quickeneth ; And all the glory sped

the From the large , marvellous eyes , light whereo f Wrought wonder in their hearts — desire and love ! And wrought not any good ! o But stri fe , and curses O f the gods , and ﬂo d , And ﬁre and battle- death !

Am I less fair , less fair, Because that my hands bear

Neither a sword , nor any ﬂaming brand

To blacken and make desolate my land ,

‘ ' r s And on my b ow are leaves o f olive boughs, And in mine arms a dove ? T he Golden S tate 31

- o f Sea born and goddess , blossom the foam , P ale Aphrodite , shadowy as a mist Not any s un hath kissed !

o f Tawny limb I roam , The dusk of forests dark within my hair ;

The far Yosemite ,

o f For garment and for covering me,

Wove the white foam and mist, The amber and the rose and amethyst

Of her wild fountains shaken loose in air.

And I am of the hills and of the sea ,

o f m Strong with the strength my great hills , and cal

o f With calm the fair sea , whose billowy gold Girdles the land whose queen and love I am !

L o ! t am I less han thou ,

o f - That with a sound lyres and harp playing, Not any voice doth sing The beauty o f mine eyelids and my breast

Nor hymn in all my fair and gracious ways ,

And lengths of golden days , The measure and the music o f my praise ?

Ah , what indeed is this

Old land beyond the seas , that ye should miss For her the grace and majesty o f mine ? Are not the fruit and vine

on ? Fair my hills , and in my vales the rose The palm -tree and the pine 32 Golden So n gs of

Strike hands together under the same skies

In every wind that blows . What clearer heavens can shine Above the land whereon the shadow lies Of her dead glory and her slaughtered kings ? And lost , evanished gods Upon my fresh green sods No king has walked to curse and de solate

e But in the vall y Freedom sits and sings , And o n the heights above ;

o f Upon her brows the leaves olive boughs , And in he r arms a dove ;

undesecrate And the great hills are pure , , Wh ite with their snows untrod ! 'And mighty with the presence of their God !

Hearken , how many years

s at o s at al h I al ne , I one and eard Only the silence stirred

By wind and leaf , by Clash o f grassy spears ,

And singing bird that called to singing bird , Heard but the savage to ngue

O f my brown , savage children , that among h T e hills and valleys chased the buck and doe, ‘And round the Wigwam ﬁres

Chanted wild songs of their wild savage sires ,

And danced their wild weird dances to and fro , f And wrought their beaded robes o buffalo .

34 Golden S on gs of

No r d n and lyre, oth any singer cha t sing ’ M e , in my li fe s fair spring The matin song of me in my young day ? But all my lays and legends fade away From lake and mountain to the farther hem

s ea . O f , and there be none to gather them

Lo ! I have waited long ! How longer yet must my strung harp be dumb Ere its great master come ?

Till the fair singer comes to wake the strong,

o f ! Rapt chords it unto the new , glad song H im ’ a diviner speech My song birds wait to teach The secrets o f the ﬁeld My blossoms will not yield To other hands than his ; l And ingering for this , My laurels lend the glory o f their boughs

To crown no narrower brows . For on his lips must wisdom s it with yo uth ; ' o n And in his eyes , and the lids thereof , The light of a great love

on ! And his forehead , truth

o r es Was it the wind , the soft sigh Of leav , f ? Or sound o singing waters So , I looked , ' o f o And saw the silvery ripples the bro k, T he Golden S tate 35

The fruit upon the hills , the waving trees , The mellow ﬁelds of harvest ; s aw the Gate

! the n Burn in the sunset thi thread of mist, Creep white across the Saucelito hills ;

Till the day darkened down the ocean rim , The sunset purple slipped from Tamalpais, And bay and sky were bright with sudden stars !

Ina Cool rith b .

WHEN THE GRASS SHALL COVER

WHEN the grass shall cover me ,

Head to foot where I am lying ,

an h When not y wind t at blows ,

- - Summer blooms nor winter snows , Shall awake me to your Sighing !

C as lose above me you pass ,

Y o u Ho w will say, kind she was , “ s a she w You will y, How true as ,

When the grass grows over me .

When the grass shall cover me , ’ Holden close to earth s warm bosom ,

o r While I laugh , weep, or sing,

fo r Nevermore anything, Y ou will ﬁnd in blade and blossom,

Sweet , small voices Odorous ,

Tender pleaders in my cause , 36 Golden S on gs o f

That shall speak me as I was

the When grass grows over me .

When the grass shall cover me !

Ah , beloved , in my sorrow

V can ery patient , I wait ,

K o r o r nowing that , soon late , There will dawn a clearer morrow “ When your heart will moan ! Alas ! Now I know how true She was ; ” Now I know ho w dear s he was When the grass grows over me ! I i na Coolbr th.

THE 'ANGELUS

e d the s s o o o e s c s co !H ar at Mi i n D l r in San Fran i ,

o f BELLS the past , whose long forgotten music

Still ﬁlls the wide expanse , Tingeing the sober twilight of the present With color o f romance !

s ee s un I hear your call , and the descending

On rock and wave and sand , r A s down the coast the Mission voices blending

Girdle the heathen land . T he Golden S tate 37

Within the circle o f your incantation NO blight nor mildew falls

o Nor ﬁerce unrest , nor lust , nor low ambiti n

Passes those airy walls .

o n o f Borne the swell your long waves receding, P I touch the farther ast ,

s ee I the dying glow of Spanish glory , m ! The sunset drea , and last

- M Before me rise the dome shaped ission towers , The white Presidio ;

o The swart c mmander in his leathern jerkin , f The priest in stole o snow .

’ Once more I see Po rtala s cross uplifting Above the setting s un ;

QAnd e n past the h adla d , northward , slowly drifting,

The freighted galleon .

O solemn bells ! whose consecrated masses

o f Recall the faith old , 0 tinkling bells ! that thrilled with twilight music

The spiritual fold .

r You voices break and falter in the darkness ,

Break , falter, and are still ; 38 Go lden S ongs o f

A nd veiled and mystic , like the Host descending, The sun sinks from the hill ! B H ret ar te.

THE REVEILLE

K h s HAR ! I ear the tramp of thousand , And o f armed men the hum ; Lo ! a nation’s hosts have gathered - um Round the quick alarming dr , C Saying, ome , reemen ! F , come

- Ere your heritage be wasted , said the quick alarm

ing drum .

Let me of my heart take counsel War is not of life the s um ; Who shall stay and reap the harvest When the autumn days are done ? But the drum Echoed ! Come ! all Death sh reap the braver harvest , said n- em sounding drum .

n But whe won , the coming battle , What o f proﬁt springs therefrom ?

What i f conquest, subjugation , T he Golden S tate 39

Even greater ills become ? But the drum

Answered , Come, Y ou do s um must the to prove it, said the Yankee

answering drum .

’ ’ What , i f mid the cannon s thunder , o Whistling shot and bursting b mb , h l W en my brothers fa l around me , ” S hould my heart grow cold and numb ? But the drum C ! Answered , ome

et a B ter there in death united than in li fe a recre nt, Come ! ”

— e Thus they answered hoping , f aring,

Some in faith , and doubting some

- Till a triumph voice proclaiming, ” ! M Said y chosen people , come ! Then the drum L o ! was dumb ; For the great heart of the nation , throbbing, an

swered e - ! , Lord, w come B H ret arte. Golde n S on gs of

WHAT THE BULLET SANG

OY o f O J creation , To be ! to 0 rapture , ﬂy And be free ! o r won Be the battle lost , l Though its smoke sha l hide the sun , ‘ — I shall ﬁnd my love the one Born for me !

I shall know him where he stands l All a one , With the power in his hands ’ Not o erthro wn ; b I shall know him y his face , By his godlike front and grace ; I shall hold him for a space All my o wn ! — It is he O my love ! So bold ! It is I — all thy love Foretold ! I — ! It is O love , what bliss ? Do st thou answer to my kiss O sweetheart ! what is this Lieth there so cold ?

42 Golden S ong s of

A nd every note o f every bell Sang Gabriel ! rang Gabriel ! In the to wer that is left the tal e to tell

O f Gabriel , the Archangel .

’ Seed o the corn was thine Body o f Him thus broken ’ And mingled with blood 0 the vine The bread and the wine Of life ; Out o f the good sunshine They were given to thee as a token

o o f o f The b dy Him , and the blood Him,

When the gi fts o f God were rife . h W at then wert thou , and what art now , After the weary strife ?

A nd every note o f every bell Sang Gabriel ! rang Gabriel ! In the tower that is left the tale to tell

O f Gabriel , the Archangel .

h e ? W er are they now , O bells Where are the fruits o’ the Mission ?

o ne Garnered , where no dwells

c Shepherd and ﬂo k are ﬂed . O ’er the Lord ’s vineyard swells The tide that with fell perdition T h ol n at e . G de S t e 43

Sounded their doom and fashioned their tomb

And buried them With the dead . and ar ? What then wert thou , what t now

The answer is still unsaid .

And every note o f every bell Sang Gabriel ! rang Gabriel ! In the tower that is left the tal e to tell

O f Gabriel , the Archangel .

0 ! Where are they now , tower T he locusts and wild honey ?

Where is the. sacred dower That the bride o f Christ was given ?

o f Gone to the builders power, The misers and minters o f money Gone for the greed that is their creed

And these in the land have thriven .

What then wert thou , and what art now, And wherefore hast thou striven ?

And every note of every bell Sang Gabriel ! rang Gabriel ! In the tower that is left the tale to tell

Of Gabriel , the Archangel .

Charles Warr en S toddar d . 44 Go lden S o n gs o f

IN T HE STATES WITH hal f a heart I wander here

As from an age gone by , — h A brother yet t ough young in years , h An elder brot er , I .

You speak another tongue than mine ,

Though both were English born .

o f I toward the night time decline,

You mount into the morn .

Youth shall grow great and strong and free , But age must still decay

fo r Tomorrow the States for me ,

England and Yesterday .

R o er t L ouis S te ns on b ve .

IN YOSEMITE VALLEY!

SOU ND ! sound ! sound ! ’ O colossal walls as cro wn d In o ne eternal thunder ! Sound ! sound ! sound !

! Pe r m s s o n to u s e th e po em s b y Jo aq u n lle r s ec ur e d i i i . Mi n Fr a i i f a n e r P u b i s h n C o . S a n c s c o a o r n i a T h e Ha r r W g l i g , , C l , ’ m e r k l i s h e r s o f Jo aq uin Miller s c o pl te wo s . T he Golden S tate 45

e n O y ocea s overhead , h W ile we walk , subdued in wonder,

n e In the ferns and grasses , u d r And beside the swift Merced !

Fret ! fret ! fret !

s et Streaming, sounding banners , On the giant granite castl e s In the Clouds and in the snow !

the fo e m But he co es not yet,

o We are l yal , valiant vassals , And we touch the trailing tassels

Of the banners far below .

Surge ! surge ! surge ! ’ the i e From wh te sierra s verg ,

e To the very vall y blossom . Surge ! surge ! surge !

Yet the song bird builds a home,

the And mossy branches cross them ,

e - And the tass led tree tops toss them ,

o f In the clouds falling foam .

Sweep ! sweep ! sweep ! O ye heaven - born and deep r In one d ead , unbroken chorus !

We may wonder or may weep , 46 Go lden S on gs of

We may wait o n God before us ;

o o r f We may sh ut li t a hand ,

bo w o r We may down deplore us ,

But may never understand .

Beat ! beat ! beat ! We advance but would retreat h From t is restless , broken breast

O f the earth in a co nvulsio n .

We would rest , but dare not rest, For the angel of expulsion From this Paradise below — Waves us Onward and we go .

Joa uin Miller q .

LYRICS

!Written in L ondon in 1 87 1 )

COME to my sun land ! Come with me T O the land I love ; where the sun and sea Are wed forever ! where palm and pine Are ﬁlled with singers ; where tree and Vine ' ! Are voiced with prophets O come , and you Shall sing a song with the seas that swirl h And kiss their hands to the cold w ite girl , f To the maiden moon in her mantle o blue . i Mille Joaqu n r . T he Golden S tate 47

! be ROOM Room to turn round in , to breathe and

free ,

And to grow to be giant , to sail as at sea With the speed o f the wind on a steed with his mane

o r . To the wind , without pathway , or route , a rein Room ! Room to b e ' free where the white- bordered

s ea

Blows a kiss to a brother as boundless as he ; ' s un And to east and to west , to the north and the ,

Blue skies and brown grasses are welded as one , ' f al And the bu f o come like a cloud on the plain ,

P - ouring on like the tide of a storm driven main , And the lodge o f the hunter to friend or to foe

ff ou O ers rest ; and unquestioned you come or y go . My plains o f America ! Seas o f wild lands ! n From a land in the seas in a raime t of foam ,

e o f That has reached to a strangr the welcome home,

I turn to you , lean to you , lift you my hands .

Joa uin Miller q .

ON A‘ PICTURE OF MOUNT SHASTA‘ BY KEITH

T W O n craggy slopes , sheer down on either ha d ,

Fall to a cleft , dark and confused with pines .

e d b e r m i s s io n o f and b s ec ial ar r an em en wi h u s y p , y p g t t , Ho ghton Mi ﬁl i n o m an C p y . 48 Golde n S on gs of

Out of their sombre shade one gleam o f light

Escaping toward us like a hurrying child ,

a . white . Hal f laughing, hal f afraid , brook runs The fancy tracks it back through the thick gloom

Of crowded trees , immense , mysterious o As monoliths of s me colossal temple ,

Dusky with incense , chill with endless time

e h Through their dim arch s C ants the distant wind ,

Hollow and vast , and ancient oracles

Whisper and wait to be interpreted . Far up the gorge denser and denser grows

o The forest ; columns lie with writhen r ots in air, And across open glades the “ sunbeams Slant To touch the vanishing wing-tips o f shy birds ;

- Till from a mist rolled valley soar the slopes ,

- v e o f Blue hazy , dense with pines to the rge snow ,

Up into cloud . Suddenly parts the cloud , ! — And lo in heaven as pure as very snow , Upli fted like a solitary world

A star , grown all at once distinct and clear, - ! C The white earth spirit , Shasta alm , alone,

Silent it stands , cold in the crystal air ,

- o f White bosomed sister the stainless dawn ,

o With whom the cl uds hold converse , and the storm i ts . Rests there , and stills tempest into snow

— ? —we Once you remember beheld that vision ,

But busy days recalled us , and the whole

50 Golden S ongs of

’

And o er it nightlong wheel the silent stars .

o n So the great globe rounds , mountains and vales ,

s o f Forests , wa te stretches gaunt rock and sand ,

on Shore, and the swaying ocean , league league ;

And blossoms open , and are sealed in frost ;

And babes are born , and men are laid to rest .

What is this breathing atom , that his brain

o r o r Should build purpose aught aught desire, awe But stand a moment in amaze and , Rapt on the wonderfulness of the world ? Edwar d R owland S ill .

THE MA N WITH THE HOE !

’ !Written after s eeing M illet s w orld- famo u s painting)

BOWED by the weight of centuries he leans

on Upo n his hoe and gazes the ground ,

The emptiness o f ages in his face , f And o n his back the burden o the world .

Who made him dead to rapture and despair,

e A thing that griev s not and that never hopes ,

o x ? Stolid and stunned , a brother to the Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw ? ? Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow

! e r mi s s on o f and b s e c al ar r an e m en w h Do ub e U s e d b y p i , y p i g t it , l d a e om an . y , Pa g C p y T he Golden S tate 51

Whose breath blew o ut the light within this brain ? Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave To have dominion over sea and land ; To trace the stars and search the heavens for power ; To feel the passion o f Eternity ? Is this the Dream He dreamed who Shaped the suns And marked their ways upon the ancient deep ? Do wn all the stretch o f Hell to its last gul f There is no shape more terrible than this More tongued with censure of the world ’s blind greed More ﬁlled with signs and portents for the soul M ore fraught with menace to the universe .

What gul fs between him and the seraphim !

e o f Slave of the wh el labor, what to him Are Plato and the swing Of Pleiades ?

o f a of What the long reaches the pe ks song,

o f The rift Of dawn , the reddening the rose ? Through this dread shape the suffering ages look ; ’ Time s tragedy is in that aching stoop ;

Through this dread shape humanity betrayed ,

P e lunder d , profaned and disinherited ,

C e o f ries protest to the Judg s the World ,

A protest that is also prophecy .

O masters , lords and rulers in all lands,

e G o d Is this the handiwork you giv to , 52 Golden S on gs o f

This monstrous thing distorted and soul - quenched ? h How will you ever straig ten up this shape , Touch it again with immortality ; Give back the upward looking and the light ; Rebuild in it the music and the dream ; M f e ake right the immemorial in ami s ,

Perﬁdio us e ? wrongs , imm dicable woes

l O masters , lords and ru ers in all lands , HOW will the future reckon with this Man ?

' How answer his brute question in that ho ur When whirlwinds o f rebellion shake the wo rld ? How will it be with ki n gdo ms and with kings With those who shaped him to the thing he is

e G o d When this dumb T rror shall reply to , After the silence o f the centuries ? E i m dw n M ar kha .

T HE OY OF T HE J , HILLS

R D on I I E the mountain tops , I ride ; f I have found my li e and am satisﬁed .

the Onward I ride in blowing oats , ’ Checking the ﬁeld -lark s rippling notes

’ U s e b e r m s s o n o f a n d b s e c a a r r an em e n w h o ub e d y p i i , y p i l g t it , D l d a a e o m an . y , P g C p y T he Golden S tate 53

Lightly I sweep From steep to steep Over my head through the branches high Come glimpses of a rushing sky ; ’ The tall oats brush my horse s ﬂanks ; Wild poppies crowd o n the sunny banks ; A bee bo oms o ut o f the scented grass ;

A jay laughs with me as I pass .

e I rid on the hills , I forgive , I forget ’ Li fe s hoard o f regret All the terror and pain

O f the Chaﬁng chain .

o n r Grind , O cities , g i b r I leave you a lu behind . I am li fted elate the skies expand ’ Here the world s heaped gold is a pile o f sand . Let them weary and work in their narrow walls I ride with the voices o f waterfalls !

I swing o n as o ne in a dream I swing ! Down the airy hollows , I Shout , I sing The world is gone like an empty word M ’ y body s a bough in the wind , my heart a bird !

Edwin M arkh m a . 54 Go lden S o ngs of

THE HEART ’S RETURN

a WHEN d rkened hours come crowding fast, — A thought and all the dark is past .

Fo r I am back a boy again ,

- Knee deep in heading barley in a Mendocino glen .

I can not ever be so sad But one thing still will make me glad That hid spring in the Suisun hills ! heart keeps going back to it thru all the earthly

ills .

How often when the brood of care

Would hold me in a hopeless snare , M y soul springs winged and away , Remembering that wild duck’s nest above Benicia a b y.

! Or when night ﬁnds me toiling still ,

o n I am back again the greening hill , bo sun A shepherd y at set of , Folding his happy sheep and knowing all

are done .

Edwi n M ar kham .

’ rm s s on o f and b s ecial ar ran em ent with ouble U s e d b y p e i i , y p g , D

o m an . day , Page C p y The Gol den S tate 55

THE LAST DAYS

T HE russet leaves o f the sycamore Lie at last on the valley ﬂo or By the autumn wind swept to and fro

' f a o . Like'ghosts in tale long ago Shallow and clear the Carmel glides Where the willows droop on its vine -walled

The bracken rust is red on the hill

The pines stand brooding, somber and still f Gray are the cli fs , and the waters gray,

sea- a- Where the gulls dip to the s e born spray. o f Sad November , lady rain ,

- Sends the goose wedge over again .

’ fo r Wilder now , the verdure s birth , Falls the sunlight over the earth Kildees call from the ﬁelds where no w The banding blackbirds follow the plow Rustling poplar and brittle weed

- Whisper low to the river reed .

Days departing linger and sigh Stars come soon to the quiet sky

Buried voices , intimate , strange, Cry to body and soul of change ; 56 Golden S ongs of

t Beau y , eternal fugitive ,

Seeks the home that we cannot give .

ter in G eorge S l g.

THE VOICE OF THE DOVE

- Hear I the mourning dove , As now the swallow ﬂoats ’ ? Low o er the shadowed oats

o f Soft as the voice love , Hear I her slow and supplicating notes ?

O fugitive ! O lone ! O burden pure and strong That summer noons prolong ! O link in music shown ’ Between the silence and an angel s SOng !

The dulcimer and lute l Hoard not s o s woo n es s wo e . What grie f o f long ago Would now thy tones transmute T O what we sought afar and could not know

Thy yearnings yet elude

Our quest and scrutiny , Tho mortals echo thee Thy moan in solitude

For dreams that are not nor shall ever be .

’ EL DORADO ! A SONG

L ar ius hie cam os ae ther et lumine ves tit g p ,

P ur ure o s olem u e s uum s ua s id era nor unt. p , q ,

OH ﬁ aﬂame , THE elds with poppies , Buttercups and columbine !

o n and - o Oh , the haze glade c ppice , Haunt o f clematis and vine !

o f n Slopes gree and skies propitious ,

And the air a draft delicious ,

One ethereal anodyne .

Oh , the sweet acacia ﬂinging Go lden tassels to the breeze ; And the wild canaries singing In and out the almond trees ! Spires o f apricot and cherry — Lane s o f lilies an d the merry Meadowlark upon the leas !

Oh , the purpling hills , the mountains ,

Towns that hallow bight and bay, C n reeks and canyons , vales and fou tains But to tell them is to pray ! Fo r their names fulﬁll the chorus 61 62 Golden S on gs of

’ O f a thousand saints that o er us

Swing their censers , night and day .

s un Oh , the , his chariot turning,

Hither wheels precipitate, — Royal bannered , westward burning, Glo riﬁes the Golden Gate !

Sinks behind the Farallones ,

- Where his trans Elysian throne is ,

Where he keeps nocturnal state .

— a Lo , the stars purer argent — Furrow ﬁelds a deeper blue ! And the city from the margent

Of the ocean leaps in view , Climbs the hills o f heaven untiring

Lilies , poppies , ﬂushing, ﬁring

All the West with bloom anew .

Charles Mills a le C y y .

PRESIDIO HILL

SABRE and cross on this historic crown

Began the conquest of our Western Sward , and wn Advancing, while they builded fort to , f The Kingdom o the Lord . T he Golden S tate 63

o The whale calved , then , in San Dieg Bay,

o ff And in the kelp beds the Loman shore ,

The otter bred . Tales o f that deedful day ’ Leap to men s lips no more ;

But P P o ft yonder pair , the arent alms , tell e Two things , as of them all their dreams wer made ! a o ut - M How ﬁrst r ng the branch swung ission bell , H P ow adre Serra prayed .

old w The while they Speak , the winds softer blo

P s un ast palsied Old Town , drowsing in the , “ o Breathing some pertinent burden , L ng ago ’ ” The padre s work was done !

C we ome whence may, memorial murmurs ﬁnd The heart o f us who o n these grasses tread ; ’ T s ea- is benediction , not the warm wind , on The breath the bowed head ,

First felt here when pale Serra bowed , his lip M ’ Quivering with victory , in the aster s name,

o f saw As , with the sight trust , he the ship ’ Far in the sun s low ﬂame ,

’ was e And the Lord s gate saf . This mother hill , “ P Under clear skies , beside the eaceful Sea, 64 Golden S ongs of

o r Her voices all , when winds are loud still ,

Are sweet with memory .

At this dark hour scarce voice enough to tell Whethe r it be o f silence o r o f sound “ The day is saying once again , Farewell , God ’s unforgotten ground ! ”

o f ! The trusting toil , the courage it all The votive grasses tremble and grow still ’ The heavens are bending low — t is evenfall P On old residio Hill .

o J hn Vance Cheney.

COYOTE

’ A DIM lithe shape moves over the mesa, Roves with the night wind up and down

- o f The light foot ghost , the wild dog the shadow,

o n the Howls level beyond the town .

Cr C ! y , cry oyote

No fellow has he , with leg or wing, No mate has that spectre in fur o r feather ;

h u In the sage brus is whelped a f zzy thing,

And mischief itsel f helps lick him together. C ! Up, cub oyote

66 Golden S ongs of

Some word to still o ur ancient long despair ? — A whisper from the inﬁnite ? a breath Caught from the far unfathomed gulf o f death ?

Henr A nd ers on L a e y ﬂ r .

THE WHITE FEET OF A TTHIS

THE N A tthis to her lover-poet said Why dost thou never murmur of my feet A little song and sweet ? Fo r surely they are worth a fragile rhyme ” To cast in the teeth of Time.

From that imperious countenance , behold , He looked along the dais stained with gold

;Where bright her silver garments gleam ed A little dri ft of snow e Was newly fallen ther ,

Nor ﬂed in the dim air .

Gazing, a mist about his eyelids fell ; As strokes o f a loud bell His heart beat ! loveliness

Surged in his brain and did his soul possess , ’ ' o f And earth s white shapes , a cavalcade dreams , Hurried their phantom -streams ; iY et came no vision out o f lands or seas T he Golden S tate 67

So perfect- fair as these

S O s o s o so so white , slight , pale, frail , sweet

Were her unsandaled feet .

A h e was , griev d his heart That ever in mead o r mart Aught carved s o fragilely and slender- round

Should tread the dark , cold ground .

Such white hath not the curds

o f Drawn the dreamy herds ,

o f Nor white breasts white birds ,

No r o marble women folded in their st ne,

Still , sunless , and unknown .

o f White a moonlit garden of pale roses ,

- And blossomy orchard closes , ’ — Or shroud that wreathes a girl s virginity e Her cold inviolacy

o f a Or viewless foam far , ench nted seas an o f Nay , not y these Is whiter

Suddenly, a- h With petulant bright mouth question , s e Shattered to air that weaving reverie

’ so s ee ar ir Tak st thou long to that they e fa , 50 mute thou standest there ? 68 Golden S o n gs o f

’ i A song I d have to quell the sing ng birds , f O f so t and colored words , All woven together in a gl eaming rhyme Sev en silver bells a- chime ’ To ring and murmur in all maidens e ars Thro ugh the unceasing ye ars

Her e t wer e m ll t air e s a es es t. f , f They must ” o F rever hating me .

h all his e e T en he from dr ams awaken d , f His grave eyes li ted , said

- c O Beauti ful , mine all allegian e h w th Bowed to the emerald s ado s of y glance , And thine unco nque red mouth

e o ut o f the !A scarl t poppy warm South ) , ’ And till thou b ad s t them see Mine eye s knew no t s o far a falsity

e Unto thy face , O Sw et , ” o ne e ! As small , ﬂeeting glance unto thy fe t

he he r e e o Thereat s laughed in high qu nly mo d ,

a o f o e o And s id Thy words are thy p th od , And wilt thou bring some slight immortal rhyme ’ — ? ” In morrow s morn ing time

He A tthis leaned , and yielded to his lips

- ﬁn er . Her cold , sweet g tips L a r Henry A nd ers on ﬂe . T h e Go lden S tate 69

THE TRAIL

I N SOLEM N rank on either hand

The patient , upright cedars stand .

o The trail , worn smo th by countless feet , — Is older than an Old world street ; But no o ld streets ho ld such a bower Encircled by high fern and ﬂower Whose shadows play o n mo ssy ground And no o ld stre ets know such a sound

A S rises when the constant stream ,

C - e hanting its season vari d theme ,

Is colored by . the last clear note ’ e From some brave sing r s pulsing throat , Who holds the last branch lit by s un

A e nd dar s deny that day is done . ff “ Yet, di erent as the Old world seems , ’ am E en here youth waits and weaves her dre s , And lo ! the makers o f the trail

P e e ass once again befor the v il , h Strange in t eir garb o f ancient days .

to o e And strange , , that they go th ir ways Turning th eir heads no whit to gaze

o f her Upon the glory bower , Resplendent at the evening ho ur With be auty and the light o f youth They are but phantom fo lk in truth !

Noiseless , a savage hunter , ﬁrst , 70 Golden S on gs of

Marks where the antlered deer has burst

m o ut f Fro his covert fringed with erns , And through the quiet air returns f The fading turmoil o his ﬂight .

With laughter low and footsteps light, A youth and maid in happy plight

o n Walk slowly , arm linking arm , Unconscious o f impending harm

In this last sunset o f their sway .

C - - wa lose following the long trod y,

- h A travel stained priest wit pendant cross ,

C o f omes , the ﬁrst herald their loss ; And in his steps a rufﬁan band Sent out o f Spain to burn and brand ;

f be Then , swi tly, seeking to ﬁrst ,

o f Heedless hunger, scorning thirst , ’ A whole world s venturers , led by dreams

O f rich and undiscovered streams ,

an d c Whose waters , clear , and swi ft old , Sweep over nests o f virgin gold ;

Behind these, seeking what they left, Close searching every narrow cleft

- a And washing over twice w shed sand ,

An alien and more patient band ,

Whose narrow , Orient eyes , and keen , Follow their path and leave it clean ;

a l L st, wa king slowly where these toiled , n k And sca ning close the ban s despoiled , T he Golden S tate 71

The searchers O f the sources pass, M arking each loose stone in the grass ,

u o f Noting the conto r the ground ,

o f The color the soil , the sound

O f certain rock that, like a bell ,

Will speak and its long secret tell . Before these vanish from her sight A clear voice wakes the birds to ﬂight ; A nd with his greeting die away

All visions o f an earlier day .

In solemn rank o n either hand

The patient , upright cedars stand .

The trail , worn smooth by countless feet,

- Leads home , like any old world street .

D avid A tki ns .

TO VIRGINIA‘

SPRING and the daff odil again

I heard the lark at dawn , A liquid cadence through the rain

Across my lawn .

The wet red roses all around

Stir in the breeze, The ﬁrst white trillium breaks the ground

Under the canyon trees . 72 Golden S on gs of

o o f I bring the wild white ﬂ wer spring,

o e Above all thers thin , As he whom with the gi ft I bring

Thy Valentine .

Henr A tkins y .

OLD GLORY

web ! c e EN C HA NTED A pi tur in the air , Dri fted to us from o ut the distance blue

From shadowy ancestors , through whose brave care We live in magic o f a dream come true ’ C n With ovena ters blue , as i f were glassed

- In dewy ﬂower heart the stars that passed . O blood -veined blossom that can never blight !

The Declaration , like a sacred rite ,

Is in each star and stripe declamatory,

T he C c onstitution thou shalt long re ite , ” ! Our hallowed , eloquent , beloved Old Glory

' O symphony in red , white , blue fanfare

o f O f trumpet , roll drum , forever new

e o o f Reverb rati ns the Bell , that bear Its ton es o f liberty the wide world through !

In battle dreaded like a cyclone blast ,

o f an d Symbol land people unsurpassed , T h y brilliant day shall never have a night . so t On foreign shore no pomp grand a sigh ,

74 Golden S on gs of

In thy dear colors , honored everywhere , The great and mystic ternion we view ; C e Faith , Hope , and harity are numb red there

And the three nails the Cruciﬁxion knew .

f o ne Three are o fended when has trespassed , ’ ’ G o d , and one s neighbor and one s sel f aghast ; ’ ’ Christ s deity and soul and manhood s he ight ;

S o n Father, and and Ghost may here unite,

With texts like these divinely monitory,

co n uerest What wonder that thou q in the ﬁght, “ ” ! Our hallowed , eloquent , beloved Old Glory

Envoy ! Of P O blessed Flag Sign our precious ast,

P o ur Triumphant resent and Future vast,

Beyond starred blue and bars of sunset bright, Lead us to higher realm o f Equal Right !

n Float o in ever lovely allegory ,

Kin to the eagle , and the wind , and light, “ Our hallowed , eloquent , beloved Old Glory Emma Frances D w a s on. T he Go lden S tate 75

WHEN ALMONDS BLOOM

WHEN almond buds unclose ,

and tende r Soft white rose ,

o f A swarm white moth things ,

With sunset on their wings , That ﬂuttering settle down On branches chill and brown ;

sk When all the y is blue , And up from grasses new

Blithe springs the meadow lark ,

Sweet , sweet , from dawn to dark , ’ When all the young year s way Grows sweeter day by day

When almond buds unclose , ’ Who o f M . doubts ay s red rose ?

Milicent Was hburn

AN ABALONE SHELL

T HE fo sun went down in g tonight , Dropped like a plummet in the bay

was Only the East faintly bright ,

was While all the West wide and gray.

sk The glories from the y are stripped ,

The long, smooth breakers meet the land, 76 Golden S o ngs of

- - - Foam stricken , gray green , sullen lipped

I hold the sunset in my hand .

G r ace M acG owan Co ke o .

A WEDDING- DAY GALLOP !Early Cali fornia)

GALLOP with me , love , away and away , h To the inﬁnite blue at t e end of the day . Here at the gate C r imhild and Bruns wick er wistfully wait ; U p to the saddle , away and away ,

Far away, far , to the end Of the day . t Here by the river and here by the plain , Here in the sunlight and there in the rain ; ’ ff o e O round the m untain s b wildering base , ff O . and away , love

s ea There by the , along the gray shore ,

Across the dim desert , miles score and score ;

Away and away and always with me .

Gallop and gallop forever With me .

Now by the s ea ! n Feet o the sand keeping time with the waves ,

Smile on the lips and ﬂush on the cheek .

our Now a smile , just a glance , all happiness saves Each fo r the other ; that language we speak

78 Golden S on gs o f

- Desert girt, green j eweled , alone in the land , ’ e o n Like the emerald engraven I ve s t this hand .

r o f Rest, rest in its shade here , thou hea t my

heart . ’ cu Here s a p from my scrip . Here is fruit ripe and

rare .

o f ﬁ s Juice Citron , bread of snow , yellow g in a rime

o n O f sweet dust ; j ellied cherries , white once a time — Dost remember ? in bloom overhead When hearkened thy heart to the word that mine

said .

Dim lie the blue mountains ; and ther e waits the dusk

— a With a star in her forehead , home , O my

heart , To enfold us and hold us ; a gardened repose

Of lilies in alleys , and roses , and musk

o the n am O f ripe grapes fr m vi eyard , all agle a and part , In green oaken glades as my hear t sees and

knows .

As my heart sees and knows , ’ th ine There s y window , netted around with a jasm o that gr pes , i o f s Overclimb ng the purple low heliotrope , T h e Golden S tate 79

on To look with its numberless stars thy face,

- And sweeten the garden with new gathered grace .

- There shines the home candle , through alley and

vine . H ! e ome, home, at last , love , thine, thine And min

s o ! Only Wide the gate , dear and blessed the door .

Now enter, and dwell , be at rest , heart and thought,

evermore .

our o ur So endeth gallop , days o f all days,

s ea Through the land , by the ,

Through the desert wild ways ,

Together , together , and always to be .

Ir ene Hard y .

NEITHER S PIRIT NOR BIRD

!S hoshone L ove S ong) NEITHER spirit nor bird That was my ﬂute you heard s La t night by the river . When you came with your wicker jar

Where the river drags the willows ,

That was my ﬂute you heard ,

e W acoba Wa oba , ,

Calling , Come to the willows ! 80 Golden S on gs of

Neither the wind nor a bird Rustled the lupine blooms That was my blood you heard Answer your garment’s hem Whispering through the grasses ; That was my blood you heard

By the wild rose under the willows .

That was no beast that stirred That was my blood you heard Pacing to and fro In the ambush of my desire ’ — To the ﬂute s four noted call .

W acoba W acoba , , That was my heart you heard

Leaping under the willows . A us tin .

THE BED OF FLEUR DE -LYS

- Y s ea- o f HIGH L ING, blown stretches green turf ,

- - s ea Wind bitten close , salt colored by the ,

L o w o n sk curve curve spread far to the cool y ,

And curving over them as long they lie ,

ﬂ - - Beds o f wild eur de lys .

- - far Wide growing, self sown , stealing near and , Breaking the green like islands in the seas ;

82 Golden S on gs of

Pink throated lizards pant in thy slim shade ; T he horned toad runs rustling in the heat ;

The Shadowy gray coyote , born afraid ,

c s Steals to some bra kish spring, and leaps and prowl

Away , and howls and howls and howls and howls ,

Until the solitude is shaken With added loneliness .

The sharp mescal shoots up a giant stalk ,

o i Its centuries o f yearning t the sunburnt sk es , And drops rare honey from the lips

O f yellow waxen ﬂowers , and dies . Some lengthwise s un-dried shapes with feet and

hands , A n e on d thirsty mouths press d the sweltering sands , Make here and there a gruesome graveless spot Where someone drank the scorching hotness and 18

not .

God must have made thee in His anger and forgot.

M adge M orris Wagner . T he Golden S tate

AT THE STEVENSON FOUNTAIN

Po s mo h e S an F c sco ! rt ut Squar , ran i )

PERHAPS from o ut the thousands passing by ’ C - The ity s hopeless lotos eaters these , Blown by the four winds of the seven seas From common want to common company Perhaps someone may li ft a heavy eye

s ee - And , dream blown across his memories , Those golden pennons bellying in the breeze A nd spread for ports where fair adventures lie .

And O ! that such a o ne may stay a space

o f And taste sympathy , till to his ears Might come the tale o f him who knew the grace To suff er sweetly through the bitter years ; To catch the smile concealed in Fortune ’s face And draw contentment from a cup of tears ! l e I win Wal ac r . Golden S on gs of

IN T HE MOJAVE

T HE starved and passionate desert Stares hungry at the sky s o O smile not forever , love ,

With lids forever dry .

In tears and not in laughter

Lo ve oft shall dearest be . My heart is thirsty for your tears To come and comfort me ! ”

’ I breathe the desert s passion ;

The sun is hot above .

Oh , rain them down upon my heart , ! The soft , cool tears o f love h l F L m C ar es . um i s .

JUST CALIFORNIA

’ W ! T I T the seas and the deserts , ’ Twixt the wastes and the waves , Between the sands o f buried lands ’ And ocean s coral caves ,

It lies nor East nor West ,

But like a scroll unfurled , G o d Where the hand of hath hung it,

Down the middle of the world .

86 Go lde n S o n gs o f

JANUARY

WHEN garden plats are pinched and brown , Because the sun itself is cold ;

When streams are swollen , freighted down With sodden drift and the re d mold ;

o f When plum trees , stripped leafy gown , Toward the salt mist lean branches sere

Then hey , my heart , and ho , my heart ,

The turning o f the year .

and xd usk s When crows ﬂy low are gray , And mists lie ﬂ eecy o n the hills ;

o f When walks are bright at break day, And from the hedge a robin trills ; When leaf buds feel the rising play ’ O f spring s intoxicating brew ,

Then hey , my heart , and ho , my heart,

The year begins anew .

Warr en Cheney .

WHEN Z EPHYRS BLOW

WHE N zephyrs blow and softly bring A subtle scent o f new -born spring ;

old O , then , vagrant dreams arise Of other lands and other skies

- Where once I went a wandering. The Golden S tate 87

A ! ! y , me how recollections cling

The days gone by have left their sting . But love detains me with his sighs And holds me as his captive prize ’ No more I ll go a-wandering

When zephyrs blow . am T v S uel ravers Clo er .

IN CARMEL BAY

I N CARMEL Bay the ﬂeeting day,

e Reluctant , casts her rob s away

And steps into the night . The fragrant land on either h and

A crescent forms of glistening sand ,

‘ A bow to speed her ﬂight .

’ she O er restless seas runs at ease ,

he s un T chariot of the to seize ,

Ere he Shall drop from sight . The pines in banks and solid ranks

Surrounding, seem pursuing ﬂanks ’ O f Beauty s army green .

T o hold her still against her will A captive sweet the night to ﬁll

With visions vaguely seen . 88 Golden S ongs of

sk The tides run high against the y ,

Birds wing in ﬂight and homeward ﬂy, To treetops tall and clean

The waiting earth has spent her mirth

e her And sil nt , rolls shadowed girth

In pale consenting night .

wa There is no y for Day to stay, Beyond her time or path to stray

She steps into the night . M ad ge Clover .

THE ROSARY

T HE h hours I spent with t ee , dear heart , Are as a string of pearls to me ;

I count them over , every one apart,

My rosary .

Each hour a pearl , each pearl a prayer, To still a heart in absence wrung ; I tell each bead unto the end — and there

A cross is hung.

— ! Oh , memories that bless and burn — ! Oh , barren gain and bitter loss a n I kiss each bead , and strive at last to le r

Golden S on gs of

Into our hearts high yearnings Come welling and surging in Come from the mystic ocean Whose rim no foot has trod

o f us Some call it Longing,

And others call it God .

A on picket frozen duty ,

A mother starved for her brood ,

Socrates drinking the hemlock , And Jesus o n the rood ; who And millions , , humble and nameless ,

The straight , hard pathway plod C Some call it onsecration ,

And others call it God . lli m H be Carru th Wi a er r t .

GOLD OF- OPHIR ROSES I

F o f O LOWER passion , rocked by balmy gales , ’ s Flushed with life s ec tasy, Before whose golden glow the poppy pales And yields her sovereignty !

f t Child o the ardent south , thy burning hear ’ Has felt the sun s hot kiss ; T he Golden S tate 91

Thy creamy petals falling hal f apart

Quiver with recent bliss .

Fo r joy at thy unequalled loveliness , He woos with ﬁerce delight ; h And thy glad soul , al f faint with his caress ,

Yet glori es in his might .

o ut o n Thy sighs go in perfume the air ,

Rich incense of thy love ,

And mystic lights , an opalescence rare ,

Play round thee from above .

So thou dost riot through the glad spring days ,

- Sun wooed and reveling in eager life , Till all the shadowed fragrance o f the ways

With thy rich bloom and glowing tints is rife .

A joyous smile that hides a secret tear ,

A note of music with a minor strain ,

A heart of gold where crimson wounds appear , ’ breathest Thou all love s sweetness and its pain .

Yet suddenly, even at thy loveliest , n Thou palest with thine o w intensity . Ah P ’ h , assion s c ild , thou art most truly blest ,

T o one . bloom perfect day, and then to die D G rac e A ther ton ennen . 92 Golden S o ngs of

EBB TIDE AT NOON

T HE breezes sleep ; their morning journey done . h ’ The seaweeds mat t e sluggish channel s edges .

- ﬂ at s un The sand twinkles in the summer ,

And ﬁshes ﬂap and spatter in the sedges .

Far o ff across the dunes there comes the sound

Of lazy surges droning o n the shingle .

M f i - y boat dri ts idly , swing ng hal f aground ;

Then bickering gulls their raucous voices mingle.

For all has changed and to the harbor bar

e the c Has come a secret m ssage from o ean ,

s A thousand hurrying ripples peed from far ,

And all the waters waken into motion .

G elett Bur e s g s .

A SONG FOR THE NEW YEAR

’ Ca the ! HERE S to the use , and blood that feeds it ’ C ! Here s to the ause , and the soul that speeds it

o r o r Coward Hero , Bigot or Sage , All shall take part in the war that we wage ; And though ’neath our banners range contrary man

94 Golden S on gs of

C God We shall gladly confess it , and the ause , may bless it ! shall ﬁnd us all worthy who did what We could !

G elett Burges s .

IN AN ALAMEDA FIELD

’ LOST Sappho s voice passed o n the wind today

o f In the perishing soprano a lark , ’ That called down April s rose- apparelled way And far quick thrills o f color frayed the dark ’ l As . though God s garment trailed a ong the east ;

K s ea een tender odors drifted from the ,

sk And splendid gold through all the y increased ,

As her wild lyric cry rang out to me .

Her strain fell quivering sweet , Forbear to love ; Fell with the Old heart-rifting o f despai r Fell in a break o f grie f past telling o f “ Forbear to love, to love forbear , forbear .

- To only my grief sharpened ear she cried , How could she know my heart last night had died ? m A nna Catherine M arkha . T he Golden S tate 95

SONG OF CRADLE-MAKING

THOU hast stirred ! e When I lifted thy littl cradle ,

The little cradle I am making for thee, I felt thee !

o f The face the beach smiled , I heard the pine-trees singing

- In the White Sea the Dawn Eagle dipped his wing.

so th O , never have I seen much light through y father’s doorway !

!Wast thou pleased with thy little cradle ? )

Last night I said ! When the child comes If it is a Son I will trim his cradle with shells And proudly I will bear him in his rich cradle Past the doo rs of barren women ; And all shall s ee my Little Chief in his rich cradle !

That was last night ; Last night thou hadst not stirred !

O I know not i f thou be a son C -o f Strong hief, Great Fisher , Law Woman, A s thy father is ; 96 Golden S on gs of

- n P Or only Sorrow Woma , atient Serving Hands ,

Like thy mother .

I only know I love thee, Thou Little One under my heart !

For thou didst move ; and every part of me trembled .

n I will trim thy cradle with ma y shells , and with cedar fringes Thou shalt have goose- feathers on thy blanket !

I will bear thee in my hands along the beach ,

s ea Singing as the sings ,

Because the little mouths o f ~ s and are ever at her

breast . M - o f O other face the Sea , how thou dost smile And I have wondered at thy smiling !

Alibi ! Thy Little feet I felt them press me !

so Lightly, lightly I hear them coming Like little brown leaves running over the earth

- o n n Little leaves , wind hastened the sudden autum trails ! nnin f Earth loves the little ru g eet of leaves . !Thy little brown feet !)

’ ’ K antsami ala S oe P 0 q , Our raised One, Let there be no more barren women !

Ma y thou bring no tears , my child

98 Golden S ongs of

of ! a Daughter sacriﬁce thy tender gr ce ,

Thy tragic story tremulous with tears , Is more than legend now ! Thy lovely face Shines like a star through all the shadowed night

a Thy voice hath touched anew the vanished ye rs , Kindling Time ’s ancient silences with light !

Charles Philli s p .

TO PALEOLITHIC MA N

!Re stor ed in a Mu se um)

MY ! L o d FATHER , thy hun red thousand

Are but as yesterday when it is past . Today thy very Voice is in mine ears ; n On mine ow mirror is thy likeness cast.

Thy s ap it is in these my veins runs green ; Thine are these knitted thews o f bone and skin h This cushioned widt lay once thy ribs between,

A s my heart did with thine its work begin .

e Be it however contour d , this frail cup f That holds the stu f and substance of my brain , From thy prognathic skull was moulded up ; Do I not share with thee the mark o f Cain ?

Not I should shudder at the thickened neck , Full from thy shoulders to thy sloping head T he Golden S tate 99

It bore the brunt of many a rout and wreck

That spared the slender loins whence I was bred .

how Nor should I blush , my Father, seeing Thy furry jowl is kindred to my Cheek ;

It shuts upon a tongue , I mind me now , e Which stuttering spent itself that I might sp ak .

I and my brothers roam this rich Today s Unhindered , unafraid , becau e thy feet,

- l Stone bruised and heavy with primordia clay, ’ o ur God s winepress trod to make vintage sweet .

P ? we What then , rogenitor Shall repay Such debt in any coin but ﬁlial love ? Leave thy defenseless carcass o n display With fossil horse and pterodactyl dove ?

For thee no epic and no monument !

For o lesser hero , meaner pi neer, ’ Our bays and honors ; shall thy sons consent h ? To leave thee standing naked , nameless , ere F H anny odges N ewman. 100 Golden S o ngs of

THE CAULDRON

!A t L a Jolla)

HERE on the swart and deeply- angled shore The great waves gather up their ﬁnal breath And ﬂing themselves to swi ft and stony death e The cream d streams that billows were before , ’ o er m Ooze the purple rocks , and foa ing, pour

In hurried cascades down , far down beneath ,

To seek in placid deeps their burial sheath .

So ﬁerce desires would wreck my li fe ; for more, More madly in the cauldron of my soul e Come they to threaten all the impo s d bounds .

0 o f ! T death , O Lord Lords , let them be tossed Let not the tragic stars s ee them their goal tOl‘ IIl ’ Reach and destroy my peace . Where no S so unds ’

s ea . Beneath life s plangent , let them be lost F i ke r anc s Wal r .

TO MY MOUTA IN

M Y M M O ountain , my ountain ,

Enveloped in your cloak of snow, Can you hear ?

’ CALIFORNIA OF THE SOUTH

T H E o f land is a garden glamour , where passes Each breeze o n its wandering way to the s ea ; s And prodigal , scatters the sweets it amasse

From orange groves yielding their stores tenderly, To be breathed back again to the tremulous grasses Z —a Through which ephyr ranges ; light lover, he !

’ Tis the garden o f Eden ; high hedges enclose it O f lime and of cypress ; a still spirit rests ’Neath the veil o f the mountains !the hushed silence

shows it) , And he broods the sweet valley to sleep o n his

breast . — This is a sanctuary every bird knows it , And knows the broad landscape was made for his

nest .

Fo r hark how the hedges and bushes are ringing With madrigals ! Mark ho w the jubilant trees Are budding with birds an d a-blossom with singing ; And look ! from each spray a small singer o f glees ’ Is trilling and trilling his skyward song ﬂinging ; ’ Sure Italy s skies are not bluer than these ! T he Golden S tate 1 03

Here rain in swift showers soft tropical ﬂowers S weet somnolent scents o n the tropical air ;

a L vish roses have reared them a riotous bower, Flaunting crimson and gold their gray gonfalons

ﬂare , And the heart o f each rose and the heart o f each hour

- Shows the last bloomed the rarest , where each still

was rare .

’ This is the land of the poet s desire ; ’ This is the Beautiful s indwelling place ; ’ a e L nd of the new dawn and late suns t s ﬁre , ’ L O she , laughs like a child in the grim East s face ! A nd a thousand years shall be born and expire Ere her youth shall have dimmed its immortal

grace . G r ace Eller Char min y g.

THE CAMPFIRE

UNTIL that eve I never knew you ; o f It had been weariest days , Some homely trivial errand drew you ’ cam ﬁre s Into my p blaze .

Y ou who , like me had paused to rest

Upon the trail o f your far quest . 104 Golden S ongs of

You knelt to stir the sullen 'embers ; The light caught cheek and chin and bro w How dear the soul o f love remembers ! Why I can s ee you even now

o f The wearied mystery your eyes , Deep shadowed as the circling skies ;

an s ee C the desert , silent , lonely,

The camp beside its brackish well ,

- two All dream like , dim , in which only

Seemed s et apart by some strange spell . Within a magic ring o f light Just you and I ! outside the night ! M r ar t A d el i o a g e aide W ls n .

CAME DOWN MOUNT TAMALPAIS M As I came down ount Tamalpais , To North the fair Sonoma hills Lay like a trembling thread o f blue Beneath a sky of daff odils ; Through tules green a silver stream n Ran South to meet the tra quil bay, a Whispering a dreamy, tender t le

Of vales and valleys far away .

1 06 Golden S ongs of

A CALIFORNIA SONG

I COME to you with a gift in my hand ,

A ﬂower that grew in a golden land , A land on whose head is a poppy crown And the scent o f the blossoms is wafted down To the amber bay and the topaz sea ’ And the s un-god s grave by the cocoa tree

I come to yo u with a ﬂower whose face o f the a cme o f Is the zenith beauty , grace ; There are dreams in its eyes and the song on its lips Is the lullaby song of the shadow that slips ’ O er the tall purple mountain that watches like Fate h T e silver sails threading the fair Golden Gate .

I come to you with a ﬂower whose breath

o f Brings freedom from fear disaster and death ,

Fo r o though El Dorado be blackened , and r ck Through the demon o f ﬁre and the earthquake

shock , There is peace in the hearts o f her children who know

The scent o f the ﬁelds where the poppies grow .

l r C a ence Urmy. T h e Golden S tate 107

FOREST COUPLETS

BENEATH a redwood let me lie And all its harmonies untie !

Melodic sequences of spray And bough and trunk in rich array

Chromatic hue and tint and shade

O f beryl , emerald and jade ;

C - adenzas , day dreams that enfold

adr es The p , argonauts and gold ;

So ft passing notes , the tones that tell Of poppy-ﬁeld and mission bell ;

With sea-wind cadences that blow e In dominant arp ggio ,

Resolving into chords full blent s e O f olace, p ace , and calm content .

Clarence Urmy. 108 Golden S on gs of

NIGHT IN CAMP

FIERCE burns o ur ﬁre o f driftwoo d ; overhead Gaunt maples lift long arms against the night a - The st rs are sobbing, sorrow shaken , white ,

S hOW ‘ S ad And high they hang, or eyes grown red — h m With weeping for their queen t e oOn just dead .

. Weird shadows backward reel when tall a nd bright The broad ﬂames stand and ﬂing a golden light

o f . On mats soft , green moss around us spread

o ff sea A sudden breeze comes in from the ,

The vast Old forest draws a troubled breath , A leaf awakens ; up the shores of sand

- The black tide , silver lipped , creeps noiselessly ;

The camp ﬁre dies , then silence deep as death ,

The darkness pushing down upon the land .

Her er t Bas h or b f d .

MORNING IN CAMP

A BED of ashes and a half-burned brand ’ Now mark the spot where last night s campﬁre sprung And licked the dark with slender scarlet tongue ; The s ea draws back from shores o f yellow sand

110 Golden S ongs of

TO WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY

! DEAD and we gaze , unseeing, on your bier, Where westward thunders roll ;

r But though you die , your living song is clea !Prometheus lights your goal )

A nd we we can till too are taken , hear That music from your soul !

Her ber t H er on.

SANTA BARBARA BEACH

Now ff while the sunset O ers , Shall we not take o ur o wn ff The gems , the blazing co ers , ? The seas , the shores , the throne

sk - — The y ships , radiant masted ,

M o ut . ove , bear low our way

Oh , Li fe was dark while it lasted ,

No w for enduring day .

Now with the world far under , T o draw up drowning men A nd show them lands of wonder

Where they may build again . T he Go lden S tate 111

There earthly sorrow falters , There longing has its wage ; There gleam the ivory altars

Of o ur lost pilgrimage . — — Swift ﬂame then shipwrecks only Beach in the ruined light ; Abo ve them reach up lonely

The headlands of the night .

A hurt bird cries and ﬂutters Her dabbled breast o f brown ; The Western wall unshutters

To ﬂing o ne last rose down .

A rose , a wild light after

And li fe calls through the years , Who dreams my fountain’s laughter ” Shall feed my wells with tears .

Rid el T orr n g y e ce .

THE CREED OF DESIRE

STILL to be sure o f the Dawn Still to be glad for the Sea Still to know ﬁre o f the blood G o d keep these gifts in me ! 112 Golden S on gs of

Then — I shall cleave the dark ! Then I Shall breast the redoubt ! Then I shall Glory the Lord And go down to the Grave With a shout ! B P ruce or ter .

A CALIFORNIA EASTER MASS

Now burn the poppy-lamps o f Spring Along the lifting aisles o f grain f Before the mystic O fering, The earth -warm breathing censers swing And choirs innumerable sing

- The gloria o f the Born again .

Charles K . Field .

THE YEARS

EAC H life is like a changing ﬂower

al o r Like pet s , pale colored free ,

e The y ars drop softly , hour by hour , And leave rich seeds o f memory !

114 Golden S ongs of

And felt the rolling fogs descend ,

s And een the lupine blown , And known what things a western friend

M a f o wn y o fer to his ,

Ah , they can never hush for long He knew what would be best

- Who built my tower high and strong,

And closed it to the west .

uli e ilbur T om ki J t W p ns .

LET US GO HOME TO PARADISE

L ET P us go home to aradise, O my adored ! There are neither ﬂaming sword P ’ rohibitive , nor angel s eyes

Jealous of o ur happiness . O from this valley o f distress P ! Look up , look back to aradise

There gentle mists are drawn along

The margins of the deep ,

And up the quiet valleys creep , There the pines with low sweet song

Murmur at morning hal f asleep , T he Golden S tate 1 15

Trailing through each ﬁngered bow b ’ The gray fog o n the ill s brow .

Our beautiful peninsula Cannot rejoice

the For all its forest , and voice C O f breaking waves in armel Bay, Until we come ; the cypresses Grieve above the dove - gray seas

For us their lovers far away .

R o i on b ns Jeﬁers .

WINDY MORNING

s d 1 1 !Catalina I lan , 9 3 ) Dawn with a jubilant shout Leaps on the shivering s ea And puff s the last pale planet o ut And scatters the ﬂame-bright clouds about

o f - Like the leaves a frost bitten tree .

Does a gold seed split the rosy husk ?

a swo rd Nay , a shield a spear ! The kindler Of all ﬁres that burn Deep in the day ’s cerulean urn Rides up across the clear And tramples down the cowering dusk

- Like a strong browed charioteer . 116 Golden So n gs o f

Blow o ut and far away

The dim , the dull , the dun ; P rosper the crimson , blight the gray,

o f e And blow us clean y sterday ,

Stern morning fair begun , de Till the earth is an opal bathed in w,

Flashing with emerald , gold , and blue , Held where the skies wash through and through

High up against the s un .

Od ell S he ar d p .

NERO

was n THIS Rome , that the toil of ma y men , The consummation of laborious years ’ Fulﬁllm ent s to o f crown visions the dead , And image o f the wide desire o f kings ’ e fful enc Is made by darkling dream s g y,

o Fuel of vision , brief emb diment

Of wanton will and wastage of the strong,

o f one Fierce ecstasy tremendous hour , When ages piled on ages were aﬂam e

To all the years behind and years to be .

Yet any sunset were as much as this Save fo r the music forged by hands o f ﬁre

From out the hard , straight silences which

1 18 Golden S on gs of

O f godhead , and its visibility .

I am but Emperor , and hold awhile

wa The power to hasten death upon its y , And cry a h al t to worn and lagging life

o wn no t For others , but for mine sel f may

one . Delay the , nor bid the other speed

There have been many kings , and they are dead , And have no power in death save what the wind Confers upon their blown and brainless dust f To vex the eyeballs o posterity .

G o d O But were I , I would be verlord

an d Of many kings , were as breath to guide

. G o d Their dust Of destiny And were I , Exempt from this mortality which clogs P an d erception clear exercise of will ,

What rapture it would be , i f but to watch

Destruction crouching at the back o f Time ,

c do The tongueless dooms whi h g the traveling suns ,

The vampire Silence at the breast o f worlds ,

Fire without light that gnaws the base of things , And Lethe ’s mounting tide that rots the stone n O f fundame tal spheres . This were enough Till such time as the dazzled wings of will C ’ ame up with power s accession , scarcely felt

For very suddenness . Then would I urge The strong contention and conﬂicting might

O f chaos and creation , matching them , T he Golden . S tate 119

These immemorial powers inimical , And all their stars and gul fs subservient

Dynasts o f Time, and anarchs of the dark In Closer war reverseless an d would s et

New discord at the universal core , A Samson- principle to bring it down

one o f . In magniﬁcence ruin Yea, e C The monst r haos were mine unleashed hound , ’ m i o wn And all y power Destruct on s right arm .

I would exult to mark the smouldering stars

Renew beneath my breath their elder ﬁre ,

And feed upon themselves to nothingness . o f - The might suns , slow paced with swinging weight

Of myriad worlds , were made at my desire

One long rapidity o f roaring light ,

o f Through which the voice Li fe were audible , And Singing of the immemori al dead Whose dust is loosened into vaporous Wings r With soaring wrack of systems uinous .

o f o f And were I weary the glare these,

o f I would tear out the eyes light , and stand

o f Above a chaos extinguished suns , and That crowd grind and shiver thunderously,

Lending vast voice and motion , but no ray

To the stretched silentness Of blinded gul fs . Thus would I give my godhead space and speech For its assertion , and thus pleasure it, 120 Golden So n gs of

Hastening the feet o f Time with cas t o f worlds

o r Like careless pebbles , with shattered suns

Brightening the aspect of Eternity .

Clar k A s hton

IN A GARDEN

Impressi ons ALO N G my fence The roses Are a Ballet Russe

A o f mad whirl snow ﬂakes ,

Dancing , swirling, glancing, twirling, Under the spot light

s O f the un .

The premiere danseuse ,

- C A golden eyed herokee , b In lazing white , P n s s irouettes and poses amo g the ro e , Gloriously full Of the passion

O f Spring .

A White Iris

e Tall and clothed in samit ,

Chaste and pure,

122 Golden S o ngs of

M arigolds When Spring passed This evening Her head was s o turned

By the young moon , She left her purse strings untied And a lot of gold guineas

Fell in my garden . B B P auline . arr in to g n.

YOUTH ’S SONGS

THEY lift upon the ﬁrst rush o f bright wings Into the heaven o f singing ; and they dare

To glimpse unseen and utter tacit things , And with unstaine d hands from the temple tear

The inmost veil to ﬁnd i f truth be there . They chant in darkness with unbated breath The age -old exorcisms o f despair How may we sing who once have walked with death ? 0 P e P o t, oet, lingering, lingering late

- To dream fulﬁlment of star high desire, A little longer and in vain you wait

The ﬂush of mystery, the cloak of ﬁre ; T he Golden S tate 1 23

’ - Youth s songs have wings , but after words shall be

A S gray leaves fallen to the wild white s ea . M l A axwe l nders on .

AMATEURS

A F LO T among the gallery gods , Whose peering faces crowd the night

With muttered breath and mocking nods ,

K o f There waits the eeper the Light .

From out the pit the roll and crash

Of music comes , and through the dark The spot pours down a blinding ﬂash

Upon its momentary mark .

It is Pierrette that ﬂutters there P Alone, until there comes ierrot C omes hissing, laughter and despair ,

And darkness blots them as they go .

They tried , O God , how hard they tried ;

was Though loveliness theirs , and grace , The Keeper o f the Light denied

A moment more to their embrace .

G er oid R o in on b s . 124 Golden S on gs of

THE SONG OF THOMAS THE RHYMER

Y OU have taken the sun and the stars from Heaven

' With our y dusky eyes that glow like wine , You h ave taken the sweetness from the rose

f o n i With the touch o your warm red lips m ne . You have stilled the song in the meadowlark ’s throat

With your voice that holds all melody , And the feaf' is heavy upon my heart That you have taken my God from me ! D M arjori e Char les ris coll .

LUCK

’ L ET there live aye a lad s laugh in the throat o f you Let you aye have a gay swing to the coat o f you L e t there aye be one poorer to borrow a groat of you

Let yo u find hands o f dear women to mother you Let you find shoulders of comrades that brother you Let you find arms o f the smal l ones to smother you !

126 Golden S o ngs o f

0 M ary , in your mercy, be kindly to her still

she And pray to God her heart will break , that may die tonight ! ” “ me L e D u Ja s o ﬁ.

THE BELLS OF SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO

Firs t Bell

A VE Maria Purissima ! Hear ! Seventeen ninety and six was the year

was o f When I hung in the tower stone , Singing aloft in a solemn tone Sending my summons for miles around That all might list to the solemn sound K ling, klang, clatter and ring,

Thus the bells O f the mission sing .

S econd Bell

Diva Jesus clanged my cry h P W en adre Fuster hung me high , And my metal tongue in its brazen throat

Sounded its ﬁrst triumphant note , Chimed with my mate in a mighty din

When the vespers were solemnly chanted within , K ling, klang, clatter and ring,

Thus the bells in the mission sing . T he Golden S tate 127

Third Bell

Hail , O holy San Rafael , I proudly pealed in a silver knell When high in the belfry aloft I hung

as And a note w struck with my eager tongue,

Heard by the Indian mother and child, By soldier stern and by padre mild K an d ling, klang, clatter ring,

Thus the bells o f the mission sing.

A ll the Bells

M — ! Hail , O Holy other hear

we fo r Thus all pealed many a year, C alled the vaquero away from his stock ,

Summoned the herder to leave his ﬂock, Indian mother and Mexican maid Fondly the summons to prayer obeyed ;

we Till , ah , called on an evil hour,

Fo r o ur the temblor came and it rent tower,

we an d And down fell with a crash a clang,

With the cries of the stricken the sad church rang. a Then they lifted us up to toll for the de d , And solemn and slow were the notes we said ;

Toll , toll , stiﬂed and slow ’ Thus the bells voiced a people s woe . 1 28 Golden S ongs of

o ur Such were the songs of ancient prime , But O the havoc and waste of time the For the years , years with their pitiless train Have heard o ur pleadings and prayers in vain ; They have levelled the graves in the church yard

lone , They have broken the arches and scattered the stone ! Clatter and ring, clatter and ring

Our throats are cracked and they seldom sing . h C arles K eeler .

PESCADERO PEBBLES

CRASH o f the crystal surf all night on the wind-wild

beaches , Boom o f the billows that break day-long o n the peh

bled reaches , Roar of the riotous waves on rock ridge s shattered

and sundered , Moaning and sobbing and shouting the turbulent

elements thundered .

n s ea- Idly I lay o the rim , the pebbles I dropped

through my ﬁngers ,

l s ea- Jewels o f jade and of beryl , with opa ine tint that lingers

130 Golden S o ngs of

MIDSUMMER EAST AND WEST

T H E r meadows are green and sweet with clove , The s un shines hot and the clouds dri ft over ’ The deep Skies measureless blue . A cooling breath and the rain drops patter

On the dusty road , and the light winds scatter

The hurrying leaves , and strew The glistening grass with dead rose petals ; A gurgle and rush and the water settles

In many a sunbright pool .

Anon is a ﬂash and a note o f thunder, A nd the forest king lies rent asunder, i And the woods are d m and cool .

The hills are brown and the ﬁelds are yellow ; h T e barley blowing, the ripe fruit mellow ; n The sun beats warm o the road .

Now days grow long and the skies are cloudless , And nights are bright with the fair moo n shroudless ;

Dry rocks where the river ﬂowed ,

The throstle hides and sings in the hedges , The round-eyed toad peeps up from the sedges

That droop by the shallow streams . T he Golden S tate 131

’ The leaves are stirred by the Southwind s sallies ,

The mountains sleep and the misty valleys ,

And the world is wrapped in dream .

Vir na Woods .

YOSEMITE STROPHES

The Valley

Y s GRA and bleakly majestic , the ba tioned walls of the

valley ,

sk Springing sheer to the y, dwarf the great pine trees

beneath .

Bridal Veil Falls

o f ff ou White from a notch the cli s y slide , oh sylph

of the mountains ,

on Easily, lissomly down , ﬂoating delicate feet . Bright from your shoulders trail the folds of a robe o f j ewels ,

Softening to ﬁlm as they fall , looped with a rain

bow loop .

Other Waterfalls

on Hung the eaves of the world , the thin ribbon dangles and ﬂutters ; 132 Golden S o ngs of

Broadly the Vernal spreads its mantel o f feathery spray ;

Headlong Yosemite leaps , and pauses , and leaps again forward ; Cliff - overshadowed Nevada gleams from the dark

like a wraith .

The Big Trees of Maripos a

- o f Cinnamon silver they rise , the trunks the titan sequoias

Centuries blossom and fall , fadeless their branches

endure .

C onclus i on ! Y os emite Remembered

h Grave and remote and austere , you haunt me wit

oh beauty, valley ,

or a Beauty undreamed of before , now all a dream

star .

har le t C s Whar ton S or k .

THE MOUNTAIN

WHAT wrecks o f Time and Storm are crumbling here ! S The rocks that seemed eternal hattered lie , And pines that sang their glorias to the Sky

In mute dismemberment stretch prone and drear .

1 34 Golden S o ngs of

’

The Summer s gentle touch shall never fail ,

Becaus e m lad s he will come to m e ! , y y, ) , Blue are the skies beyond the mists that veil a ! Thy face , Teh chapi

D i S tar r a av d r Jo d n .

F NEP M S T . JOHN O O U C

ONE Columbused P summer I John , in rague, that

deadly Bush League town . ’ ’ I d quit em cold o n pictures and cathedrals fo r a

while .

M a I hung around for and Sis !Good Lord , there ’ ’ wasn t one they d miss Pale martyrs till you couldn ’t sleep — Madonnas by the

I read some dope in Baedeker about a tablet on the

bridge , And ho w they slipped this poor o ld scout the double

cross for fair . ’ ff old I m o High Brow historic truck , but this boy

f Ne om uc o p ,

as . Y ou must admit he w the goods Believe me , he was there ! T he Golden S tate 135

K as The ing w Wenzel Number Four . John was P Sky ilot for the Court . K King gets a hunch that M r s . ing has something o n

her mind .

He goes to sleuthing more and more . He says ’ h ! Gadzooks , I ll have t eir gore ’ ’ !Don t ever let em string you on that bunk that love is blind !)

’ The Queen !I ll bet she was some queen ) she tango es

her blithely on way , And fails to s ee the storm clouds o n the regal hus ’ band s dome . ot I g him guessed , that Wenzel guy, harpoons a ’ girl that s young and spry , ’ And tries to seal her up for life in the Old People s Home !

The way I had it ﬁgured o ut She married him to please her folks s on- in- K ou ! Our law , the ing, y know !Some speed ! I guess that’s poor ? ) ’ S o she M , when sights a aiden s Dream , some real live wire that ’s made the team

Well , she sits up and notices , like any girl . Why , sure !

’ Old Wenzel can t quite cinch the case , but what he ’ doesn t know , he thinks . 136 Golden S ongs o f

The lump he calls a heart congeals beneath his fancy

vest . He sends for poor o ld Father John and says as follows I am on ! I merely lack a few details ! What hath the Qu confessed ?

He holds the court upon the bridge . Speak up ,

o r he says , otherwise These spears will thrust you down to death ! Come through ! I am the King ! Kick in ! What did my spouse confess ?

Qu een sends frantic S . O . S M — ’ aybe I sort of dozed , but well here s how I got this thing

He saw the startled courtiers , straining their ears ;

s aw He the white Queen swaying, striving to stand

s a o h He w the s ldiers tensely gripping t eir spears , ’ Waiting the King s command . He heard a small page drawing a sobbing breath ; ’ lo w He heard a bird s call , poignant and sweet and ;

He o f heard the rush the river , spelling death , M ocking him , down below , M But he only said , y Liege ,

To my honor you lay siege ,

And that fortress you can never overthrow .

o f the He thought how he had led them , all years ;

o f bi He thought how he served them , death and rth ;

138 Golden S on gs of

The lazy river hummed and purred and s ang a ' sleepy song

was O f course , I know it listens queer, but gad , it

s o real and near , I stood there basking in the s un for goodness knows

how long .

s ee ! s ee Sometimes I it even now I that little , lean, Old saint Put up against the shining spears his simple nerve and pluck ! m once , by Jove , you know , he ca e right down beside me in the game

t old We know who made the touchdown hen , John o f Nepomuc !

u t Mit hel R h Comfor t c l .

EL PONIENT E Beneath the train the miles are folded by ’ High and still higher thro the Vibrant air

We mount and climb . Silence and brazen glare ; Desert and sage -brush cactus ; alkali ;

ow- dr Tiny, l growing ﬂowers , brilliant , y

A vanishing coyote lean and spare , Lopes slowly homeward with a backward stare

- To j ig saw hills cut sharp against the sky . T he Golden S tate 9

In the hard turquoise rides a copper s un

Old hopes come thronging with an urge , a zest

Beside the window gliding wires run , ! Binding two oceans . Argosy and quest Old dreams remembered to be dreamed and d one !

It is young air we breathe . This is the West ! R th m or t Mitchell u Co f .

IN THE MOHAVE

I rode down the arroyo through y uccas belled with bloom ’ I s aw a last year s stalk lift dried hands to the

light,

o Like age at prayer for death within a careless r om , ’ o ne o e rtak en Like by day , whose Sick desire is

night .

A nd as I rode I saw a lean coyote lying

o All perfect as in life up n a silver dune , ’ Save that his feet no more could ﬂee the harsh light s

spying, Save that no more his shadow would cleave the

sinking moon . 140 Golden S on gs of

O cruel land , where form endures , the spirit ﬂed ! ’ Y o u chill the s un for me with your gray sphinx s

smile, Brooding in the bright silence above your captive

dead ,

o f s o so Where beat the heart li fe brief , brief a while !

THE WATER OUZ EL

LITTLE brown surf- bather of the mountains !

o f h Spirit Of foam , lover cataracts , s aking your wings in falling waters ! Have you no fear of the roar and rush when Nevada plunges

‘

Nevada, the shapely dancer, feeling her way with slim white ﬁngers ? How dare you dash at Yosemite the mighty

Tall , white limbed Yosemite , leaping down , down over the cliff ? Is it not enough to lean o n the blue air o f mountains Is it not enough to rest with your mate at timber in line , bushes that hug the rocks Must yo u ﬂy through mad waters where the heaped up granite breaks them ?

142 Golden S o n gs o f

TO THE SUMMER SUN

!Co ronado)

s un wh o u ? GREAT , y are y pitiless All day your glance is hard and keen Upon the hills that once were green

an d Where summer, sere passionless , No w lies brown- fro cked against the sky And makes of them her resting place

he a Since s has drunk the v lleys dry . Y o u never turn away your face

who And I , love you , cannot bear

Your long, barbaric , searching look Down through the low cool ﬂights of air

Your tirelessness I cannot brook , For all my body aches with light

e And you have glutt d me with sight , With ﬂooding color made me blind h To omely things more soft and kind , Till I have longed fo r clouds to roll Between you and my naked soul

O Great Beloved , hide away That I may miss you for a day ! T he Golden S tate 143

THE MOUNTAIN LILAC

UPO N the hills ,

Upon the little foothills,

Out there , beyond the pungent sage of the mesa, A ﬁlm o f blue has shadowed the soft green

That followed the rains o f spring .

And into the mountains ,

o Back behind the f othills ,

The mist of ﬁne , elusive blue is rising, Even as smoke might rise from spreading ﬁres

Long smouldering near the earth .

sun m The golden pitched ca p upon the hills ,

e e Aft r the long gray rains had washed th m clean ,

And where he wandered ,

And where his ﬁngers touched it ,

o f The earth grown hot with love his bright beauty , Gave back this smoke Soon to be broken by the ﬂaring ﬂame

Of mimulus and tarweed .

Soon through this living mist ,

This dear blue smoke , Will the s un- kindled summer break and burn

Upon the hills .

u rit ilk Marg e e W ins on. 144 Go lden S o ngs o f

WITH THE TREES ! A PROSE POEM

T HE liveo ak s resis are my soldiery , gnarled and

- tant, bearded with grey green , drooping mosses .

“ e un They stand about my dw lling staunch , tireless ,

ﬂinchin f - o o . g, the brave masters today and to m rrow The sweet pepper trees are my fellows and com

o f panions , full sympathy , gay , friendly , delicate , and tactful , demanding neither too much nor too

o f little me , waving long plumes in the breeze , ﬂash

n o ut ing bright berries in the s u . When I go I seek them , and when I come in I bring them with me .

The eucalyptus trees are my poets and idealists , stripping o ff ruthlessly the binding withered bark

s un of today , ready to stand nude under the in the

o f to - h o e ac u ies truth morrow , with hig b rne h ads , q f cent in the beauty o life and death .

are c c The sycamores my hoi e and careful advisers , remote and infrequently sought , demonstrating

o ne wa s o ro ﬁt clearly that y is not good as another, p wa ing by the tears shed in springtime , taking the y

f o f o f their nature , ollowing the course the hill

ee streams , discriminating betw n this and that .

The olive trees are my ghosts , my memories of all

- that has been , lingering in silver grey presence near the li fe that now is , turning my thoughts back and

o f o r inward upon grey days pain and sadness , silver

o f be . days joy, that I may remember and wise

VALE

Her aunt si erras ed ed with re or s now g g ﬁ , Cu ttin the burnis hed s k her s tee on s tee g y, p p O tawn - br eas ted hills her old en elds f y , g ﬁ , i I m ght n ot hop e to k eep .

54nd I may never go again to ﬁnd

The to az l or o her m ellow d a s p g y f y ,

The bles s ed r a r anc e o her s a hir e ni hts f g f pp g ,

A nd s o tl s in their r ai s e f y g p .

Bu t I s hal l k ee her beau t to the end p y ,

F or beau t chan es thos e who l ove i t m os t y g , A nd thr ough my hear t the echoing rhythms beat c Of waves up on her oas t. AUTHOR AND TITLE INDE!

o e he ce M acG o wan o o e Abal n S ll , An Gra C k Amate ur s C ero id Rob in so n ! ANDERSON , MA WELL ’ Yo uth s S ongs e s The e e Ang lu , Br t Hart ANONYMOUS ’ s o f o - e T he Day F rty Nin , A s I Cam e D own Mo unt Tamalpais Clarence U rmy At the Steve ns o n Fo untain Wallace Irwin

ATKINS , DAVID

. T he Trail ,

ATKINS , HENRY T o Virginia

AU STIN , MARY N e ithe r Spirit nor Bird

B l o f the o o e e c s o a lad G ld C untry, A H l n Hunt Ja k n P BARRINGTON , AULINE B . e In a Gard n . F BASH ORD , HERBERT M o rning in Camp Night in Camp B ed o f e - d e - L s The h o e P e s l ma Fl ur y , C arl tt rkin Gi n B ell s o f San Gabriel Charle s Warr en Sto d dard e s o f s o T he ha es e e e B ll San Juan Capi tran , C rl K l r c e T he eo e e Bla k Vultur , G rg St rling

BURGESS , GELETT Ebb Tide at No on o o f the Ne w e A S ng Y ar , B R UTLER , JENNIE MCB IDE Wind o f the S o uth

Cali fo rnia Ina Co olbrith Calif ornia Mary Carolyn Davi es ' h e fo s e s s e s . Cali rnia Ea t r Ma , A C arl K Fi ld Cali f o rnia o f the S o uth Grace Elle ry Channing Cali fo rnia P o ppies Mary Carolyn Davie s

fo o . e ce U m Cali rnia S ng, A Clar n r y 148 In dex

m ﬁ e T he e e e so 1 0 Ca p r , Margar t Ad laid Wil n 3 R CA RUTH , WILLIAM HERBERT Each in His Own Tongu e ” o T he c s e 1 00 Cauldr n , Fran i Walk r

CHANNING, GRACE ELLERY Califo rnia o f the S o uth

CHENEY, JOHN VANCE

Pr e s idio Hill

CHENEY , WARREN January h e T he h es Ké ﬂe r C ild H art, C arl

CLOVER, MADGE In Carm el Bay

CLOVER , SAMUEL TRAVERS When Z ephyr s Blo w

COOKE , GRACE MACGOWAN b o e he A al n S ll, An

COOLBRITH , INA Cali f o rnia When the Gras s Shall Co ve r M e Coyote J ohn Vance Cheney

CRANE, LAUREN E . o T h e o m S ng , !Fr Juanita e e Of es e T he ce Po e Cr d D ir , Bru rt r

A TT , R LL N . D GGE O I M’ My N ew Y e ar s Guests

DAVIES , MARY CAROLYN Cali f o rnia Cali fo rnia Po ppi es

DAWSON , EM MA FRANCES Old Glo ry “ ’ s o f o - e T he o m o s Day F rty Nin , An ny u R DENNEN , G ACE ATHERTON Gold - o i - Ophir R o s e s

DRISCOLL, MARJORIE CHARLES f ho m s the h me The S ong o T a R y r , FF DU , JAMES LEO Mate r D ol o ro s a

! m e t th Each in His Own T ongue Willia Herb r Carru e e e s s Ebb Tide at N o on . G l tt Burg o El Canelo . Bayard Tayl r

1 50 In dex

PAGE H JACKSON , ELEN HUNT Ballad o f th e G o ld Co untry January FF JE ERS , ROBINSON L e t U s G o Ho m e to Paradis e

JORDAN , DAVID STARR In T ehachapi o o f the s T h e h m J y Hill , Edwin Mark a Just Calif o rnia J ohn Steven McG r oarty

E KEEL R , CHARLES e s o f s o T he B ll San Juan Capi tran , h e T he C ild H art, Pescadero

L F A LER , HENRY ANDERSON h e e et o f A tthis T he 66 W it F , . Wir el es s 65 T h s s e . e o e e La t Day , G rg St rling 55 L et U s G o H o m e to Paradi s e Robin s o n J e ffe r s 1 1 4 e 1 2 Luck . . Dar Stark 4

LUMMIS , CHARLES F . In the M ojave Lyric J o aqu i n M i lle r Lyric J oaquin Miller

~ h the Ho e T he E h m Man wit , dwin Mark a

MARKHAM , ANNA CATHERINE In an Alam e da Field

MARKHAM , EDWIN ’ s e T he H eart R turn, o f the s T he Joy Hill , th the Ho e T h e Man wi , ff Mate r D olor o s a Jame s L eo Du E MCGROARTY, JOHN STEV N Just Cali f o rnia Mid s umm e r East and We st Virna Wo o ds

MILLER, JOAQUIN In Yo s e mite Valley Lyric Lyric T F MITCHELL , RU H COM ORT

El Po ni ente . ohn i o f e o muc St. J N p Index 1 51

MONROE, HARRIET e O z e T he 1 0 Wat r u l , 4 M o rning in Cam p Herbe rt Bash f ord 1 08 o c T he u e e so 1 M untain Lila , Marg rit Wilkin n 43

o T he . o e s o o 1 2 M untain , Edward R b n Tayl r 3 ’ ’ s e s s o My N ew Year Gu t R llin M . Daggett 1 3

N either Spirit nor Bird Mary Au stin 79 N e ro Clark A s hto n Sm ith 1 1 6

NEWMAN , FANNY HODGES T o Paleo lithi c M an 98 Night in Camp H erbert Bas h fo rd 1 08 G NO UCHI , YONE In th e Valley ;

O Blanca Virgen a Tu Ventana ! Eleano r Hagu e !trans lato r ) mm l o . ces s o O d Gl ry . E a Fran Daw n ' On a Picture o f M o unt Shasta by Ke ith Edward Rowland Sill ORR P , ATRICK In th e M ohave

P Y A A SON , MAHD H T o My M o untain 1 00 Pescadero Pebble s Charle s Keeler 1 28 P HILLIPS , CHARLES Iphigenia in Aulis P OLLOCK , EDWARD Evening P ORTER, BRUCE ee o f e s e T he 1 1 Cr d D ir , 1 Pres idio Hill J ohn Vance Cheney 62

E R ALP, RICHARD Indir ectio n 2 1 e e e T he e e R v ill , Br t Hart 38 G EROID ROBINSON , Amateur s 12 3 G RO ERS , ROBERT CAMERON

o s T he . 88 R ary, os T he o e m e o o e s 88 R ary, R b rt Ca r n R g r 152 In dex

Santa Barbara B each Ridgeley Torr ence O SHEPARD , DELL Windy M orning

SHINN , MILICENT WASHBURN he mo s o m W n Al nd Bl o . W SILL, EDWARD RO LAND On P c u e o f o h s a . i t r M unt S a ta by Ke ith

SKINNER, CONSTANCE LINDSAY S ong o f Cradle - Making

SMITH , CLARK ASHTON Ne r o h m o T e o e . e S ng, !Fr Juanita Laur n E Cran S o ng o f Cradle - Making Constance Lind s ay Skinne r o o f th e N e w e e e es s S ng Y ar , A G l tt Burg o o f ho m s the h m e T h e S ng T a R y r , o e h e s s c . Marj ri C arl Dri oll

‘ h o f e omuc h om fo che St. J o n N p Rut C rt Mit ll

STARK , DARE

E ST RLING , GEORGE c e T he Bla k Vultur , s s T he La t Day , o ce o f the o e T he V i D v ,

STEVENSON , ROBERT LOUIS h s In t e State . E STODDARD , CHARLES WARR N

B e ll s o f San Gabri el .

STORK , CHARLES WHARTON Yo s em i te Strophe s

Y B TA LOR, AYARD El Canelo Y RoBES ON TA LOR , EDWARD o T he 1 2 M untain , 3 T o My M o untain Mahdah Pays o n 1 00 T o Pale o lithic Man Fanny Ho dges N ewman 98 T o the Colo rado D e s ert Madge M o rris Wagn er 8 1 T o th e Sum m e r Sun Margu erite Wilkin so n 1 42 T o Virginia Henry Atkin s 7 1 T o William Vaughn M oo dy Herbert Her on 1 1 0 M I IE I TO PK NS , JUL T W LBUR We stern Bloo d