And rot yon cabins in the mould,
And wheels no more croak in distress,
And tall pines reassert command,
Sweet bards along this sunset shore
Their mellow melodies will pour;
Will charm as charmers very wise,
Will strike the harp with master hand,
Will sound unto the vaulted skies
The valor of these men of old, —
The mighty men of 'Forty-nine;
Will sweetly sing and proudly say,
Long, long agone there was a day
When there were giants in the land.

Joaquin Miller.

L

CALIFORNIA.

AND of gold!thy sisters greet thee,
O'er the mountain and the main ;

See, they stretch the hand to meet thee,
Youngest of our household train.

Many a form their love hath fostered

Lingers 'neath thy sunny sky, And their spirit-tokens brighten Every link of sympathy.

We mid storms of war were cradled
Mid the shock of angry foes;
Thou, with sudden, dreamlike splendor,
Pallas-born, — in vigor rose.

I

Children of one common country,
Strong in friendship let us stand,
With united ardor earning

Glory for our Mother Land.

They of gold and they of iron,
They who reap the bearded wheat,
They who rear the snowy cotton,
Pour their treasures at her feet;

While with smiling exultation,
She, who marks their filial part,
Like the mother of the Gracchi,
Folds her jewels to her heart.

Lydia Huntley Sigourney.

THE CAÑON.

STAND upon a stony rim,

Stone-paved and patterned as a street;

A rock-lipped cañon plunging south,
As if it were earth's opened mouth,
Yawns deep and darkling at my feet;
So deep, so distant, and so dim
Its waters wind, a yellow thread,
And call so faintly and so far,
I turn aside my swooning head.
I feel fierce impulse to leap
Adown the beetling precipice,
Like some lone, lost, uncertain star;

To plunge into a place unknown,
And win a world all, all my own;
Or if I might not meet that bliss,
At least escape the curse of this.

I gaze again. A gleaming star
Shines back as from some mossy well
Reflected from blue fields afar.

Brown hawks are wheeling here and there,
And up and down the broken wall
Cling clumps of dark green chaparral,
While from the rent rocks, gray and bare,
Blue junipers hang in the air.

Here, cedars sweep the stream, and here, Among the boulders mossed and brown That time and storms have toppled down From towers undefiled by man,

Low cabins nestle as in fear,

And look no taller than a span.
From low and shapeless chimneys rise
Some tall straight columns of blue smoke,
And weld them to the bluer skies;
While sounding down the sombre gorge
I hear the steady pickaxe stroke,
As if upon a flashing forge.

Another scene, another sound!
Sharp shots are fretting through the air,
Red knives are flashing everywhere,
And here and there the yellow flood

Land of the West! thine early prime
Fades in the flight of hurrying Time;
Thy noble forests fall, as sweep
Europa's myriads o'er the deep;

And thy broad plains, with welcome warm,
Receive the onward-pressing swarm:
On mountain-height, in lowly vale,
By quiet lake, or gliding river, --
Wherever sweeps the chainless gale,
Onward sweep they, and forever.
Oh, may they come with hearts that neʼer
Can bend a tyrant's chain to wear;
With souls that would indignant turn,
And proud oppression's minions spurn;

With nerves of steel, and words of flame,

To strike and sear the wretch who'd bring our land to shame!

Land of the West! - beneath the Heaven

There's not a fairer, lovelier clime;

Nor one to which was ever given

A destiny more high, sublime.
From Alleghany's base, to where

Our Western Andes prop the sky,-
The home of Freedom's hearts is there,
And o'er it Freedom's eagles fly.
And here, should c'er Columbia's land
Be rent with fierce intestine feud,
Shall Freedom's latest cohorts stand,
Till Freedom's eagles sink in blood,

And quenched are all the stars that now her banners

stud!

William D. Gallagher.

While standing this up a try

I Wan
The shadows of dim ages long sus
Reel on my mind, like spectres of the
While dirge-like music hauts th A
From out the bosom of the

There rises up no voice of té 1.
Eternal silence, like a shaukat
Broods on thy breast.
well.