Reflected from its surface. This calm day
Utters no note of discord. Far away
And overhead, the tireless, winged sea-mew
Skims languidly the air, sun-warmed anew
And freshly blown with each succeeding day.
"O San Francisco Bay! Upon thy shore,
What wondrous argosies are anchored here!
What giant masts are silhouetted fair
'Gainst the eternal blue which bendeth o'er,
As though a Titian hand were carving clear,