Once, long ago, when Nature’s hand
––Was busy at formation,
She found a box of chaos scraps,
––The loveliest of creation.

And so, in sweet caprice––who knows––?
––To please some dear companion,
She took the store of beauty-scraps
––And made this matchless canyon.

The wildest, sweetest, fairest things
––Are here in glen and torrent,
You’ll vow there never was a place
––Like Alum Rock, I warrant.

The quaint madrone, the laurel trees,
––And countless shrubs that cover
The mountain sides ; the soft, warm air,
––The blue sky bending over,

Make it a spot––when weary worn––
––You seek with loved companion,
And find the gods of rest and peace
––Dwell in this matchless canyon.

1895.


		
	

Youth Voices is an open publishing platform for youth. The site is organized by teachers with support from the National Writing Project. Opinions expressed by writers are their own.

CC BY-SA 4.0All work on Youth Voices is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

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