



Produced by Jeannie Howse, Claudine Corbasson, Irma pehar
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
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[Illustration]




A SOUVENIR OF SAN FRANCISCO BAY


Within the Golden Gate


BY

LAURA YOUNG PINNEY


ILLUSTRATED BY ELLA N. PIERCE


    SAN FRANCISCO:
    FROM THE PRESS OF THE SAN FRANCISCO PRINTING COMPANY
    411 MARKET STREET
    1893


Copyright 1893, by L. Y. PINNEY AND E. N. PIERCE

    HALF TONE ENGRAVINGS
    BY UNION PHOTO-ENGRAVING CO.




    [Illustration]

    AUTUMNAL skies were fair, and blue,
      And soft and mild the morning breeze;
    With sails unfurled--a joyous crew--
      We sought Pacific's tranquil seas,
          And entered there, a gate that stands,
          Unbarred to ships of many lands.

    And as we passed its portal grand,
      Our hearts were glad, our spirits light,
    And we rejoiced, and eager scanned
      The scenes that came before our sight.
          Near Alcatraz, an island bold,
          We paused to hear this story told:




    [Illustration]

    GRIM Alcatraz! Thou sentinel
      That watch hath kept, thro' ages past,
    Over this shining way to sea,
      O where's the ship, with towering mast,
    That bore my loved one far from me?

    Thou sentry, with thy guarded wall,
      Thou saw'st him pass and sail away,
    To thread the trackless, distant sea.
      Where rides the good "St. George" to-day.
    That brings not back my love to me?

    [Illustration]

    [Illustration]

    Care'st thou, that some, who pass thee by,
        In morning time, with laugh and song,
            With evening shades, return no more,
                Tho' sad ones count the hours so long,
                    And lone ones wait upon the shore?




    THE singer in a little boat,
        Whose snowy sail gleamed in the sun,
    Paused there, until the last fond note
        Was sung, then swiftly sped away,
                    Like some sweet bird whose plaintive cry
                    Ere pity wakes, hath soared on high.

    Our eyes then sought, thro' changing light,
        A distant mount's majestic form,
    'Twas Tamalpais, whose lofty height,
      Doth rise above the fog and storm;
    While, neath its brow fair valleys bloom,
    Untouched by frost or winter's gloom.




    FAR up the