Where blue sky arches over flower and palm,
And west winds whispering, breathe a healing balm.
Here creep the old and sad, so long denied
The welcoming smile these sunny spaces hold;
Fond lovers weave their golden dreams beside
Gay, laughing children counting poppy gold;
To all the Park brings rest, and sweet relief
From work or pain, or haunting wraiths of grief.
—Ella M. Sexton.
YERMAH, THE DORADO