Joaquin Miller's Poems [in six volumes] |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
 | 5. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. | XIII |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| 23. |
| 24. |
| 25. |
| 26. |
| 27. |
| 28. |
| 29. |
| 30. |
| 31. |
| 32. |
| 33. |
| 34. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
|
 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
XIII
How fair is San Francisco BayWhen golden stars consort and when
The moon pours silver paths for men,
And care walks by the other way!
Huge ships, black-bellied, lay below
Broad, yellow flags from silken Chind,
Round, blood-red banners from Nippon,
Like to her sun at sudden dawn—
Brave battle-ships as white as snow,
With bannered stars tossed to the wind,
Warm as a kiss when love is kind.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |