San Francisco

San Franciso.
39.4

She laughed upon her hills out there
Beside her bays of misty blue;
The gayest hearts, the sweetest air
That any city ever knew.

For I have whistled all the songs
That thrilled upon her care-free breath,
And I have mingled with her throngs-
But never in the thought of death.

Lady of Ventures, Joy of Earth,
How more the pity for your moans
With all the blossoms of your mirth
Crushed, like your youth, beneath the stones.