San Francisco

San Francisco
By Joaquin Miller
492

Such darkness, as when Jesus died!
Then sudden dawn drave all before
Two wee brown tomtits, terrified,
Flashed through my open cottage door;
Then instant out and off again
And left a stillness like to pain-
Such stillness, darkness, sudden dawn
I never knew or looked upon!

This ardent, Occidental dawn
Dashed San Francisco’s streets with gold,
Just gold and gold to walk upon,
As he of Patmos sang of old
And still, so still, her streets, her steeps,
As when some great soul silent weeps;
And, oh, that gold, that gold that lay
Beyond, above the tarn, brown bay!