| |
| ’TWIXT the seas and the deserts, | |
| ’Twixt the wastes and the waves, | |
| Between the sands of buried lands | |
| And the ocean’s coral caves, | |
| It lies not East nor West, | 5 |
| But like a scroll unfurled, | |
| Where the hand of God hath hung it, | |
| Down the middle of the world. | |
| |
| It lies where God hath spread it, | |
| In the gladness of his eyes, | 10 |
| Like a flame of jeweled tapestry | |
| Beneath His shining skies, | |
| With the green of woven meadows, | |
| And the hills in golden chains, | |
| The light of leaping rivers, | 15 |
| And the flash of poppied plains. | |
| |
| Days rise that gleam in glory, | |
| Days die with sunset’s breeze, | |
| While from Cathay that was of old | |
| Sail countless argosies; | 20 |
| Morns break again in splendor | |
| O’er the giant, new-born West, | |
| But of all the lands God fashioned, | |
| ’Tis this land is the best. | |
| |
| Sun and dews that kiss it, | 25 |
| Balmy winds that blow, | |
| The stars in clustered diadems | |
| Upon its peaks of snow; | |
| The mighty mountains o’er it, | |
| Below, the white seas swirled— | 30 |
| Just California stretching down | |
| The middle of the world. | |
| |
