October I5th, 1910. My friend, dear friend, why should… Over the Babel of voices, suddenl… Calling as from the new world to t… Hush!—are you weary? would you fol…

While I walk the pavement sooty In the town, Tread the stony path of duty Up and down, Oh, the Kern, all clad in beauty—

The long resounding marble corrido… shining parlors with shining women… them. The French room, with its gilt an… under plump little tumbling painte…

O Love, my love, it’s over then— Your heart flies free; And it’s now no more us two again, The door on you and me. And it’s now no more the supper sp…

Poet, sing me a song to-day! But the world grows old and my hai… Ah no! there are birds on the lila… And a snow-drop out of the wet ear… Two chattering robins are planning…

Sometimes I laugh’€”what else can… Who does not know? This little eg… Braving the void, this fleck upon… This filmy wing sounding the starr… What bold abysmal incongruity,

Grand Cañon of Arizona Vishnu, the gods of eld are dead.… Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus… Isis of Egypt. Unto each his hour… Yet thou, silent within thy temple…

He built a tower for all to see, With sun-washed gardens planted wi… And there with pomp of pageantry, With men-at-arms and minstrelsy And moonbeam ladies fair and free,

The Fisk Street turbine power sta… The invisible wheels go softly rou… Light is the tread of brazen-foote… Spirits of air, caged in the iron… Sing as they labor with a purring…

O Mother of that heap of clay, so… Now do you stare at death, woman,… Now do you long to fare afar, and… Where he must wander all alone, hi… But I now, but I now—

Wind of the desert, softly blow Across the cañon shining wide. Lightly among the temples go That rise in towers of pride. Soft, lest they float away

You are a painter—listen— I’ll paint you a picture too! Of the long white lights that glis… Through Michigan Avenue; With the red lights down the middl…

To the California Sierra Club Come climb the mountain trails wit… Where pine-trees plume the sky, Where snowy peaks salute the sea When herald winds pass by.

Flowers grow in the grass, Baby footfalls pass Over the fields once red, Over the hero’s head— For Peace.

Little brown surf-bather of the mo… Spirit of foam, lover of cataracts… Have you no fear of the roar and r… Nevada, the shapely dancer, feelin… How dare you dash at Yosemite the…