Joaquin Miller's Poems | ||
VIII
A man to love, a land to love;A land of gold, of sapphire seas,
Such blue below, such blue above,
Such fruits and ever-flowered trees—
The fairest Eden-land that is,
4
He won it, holds, with dust-full hands—
This soldier born, born and not made,
Who scorned to make rude war a trade.
Joaquin Miller's Poems | ||