I count the columned waves at war With Titan elements; and they, In martial splendor, storm the bar And shake the world, these bits of spray. - Joaquin Miller

O, the sea of lights for streaming When the thousand flags are furled— When the gleaming bay lies dreaming As it duplicates the world! You will come my dearest, truest! Come my sovereign queen often; My blue skies will then be bluest; My white rose be whitest then: Then the song! Ah, then the sabre Flashing up the walls of night! Hate of wrong and love of neighbor Rhymes of battle for the Right!

He rode as rides the hurricane; He seem'd to swallow up the plain; He rode as never man did ride, He rode, for ghosts rode at his side, And on his right a grizzled grim — No, no, this tale is not of him.

Her mouth Was roses gather'd from the south, The warm south side of Paradise, And breathed upon and handed down, By angels on a stair of stars.