of San Francisco.

Light
I.

Until the glorious Sun hath vanquished Night,

The Birds of Day cower trembling with affright.

But lo! a bright glance bids the Tulip ope;

O Heart, awake thou too, in Duty's might.

The Sun's Sword sheds in reddening flush of Dawn

The Blood of Night, and puts the Foe to flight.

The Soul still full of sleep, dreams Night prevails;