The California Birthday Book: Prose and Poetical Selections from the Writings of Living California Authors, with a Brief Biographical Sketch of Each

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George Wharton James
Arroyo Guild Press, 1909 - 421 Seiten
 

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Seite 68 - Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.
Seite 184 - Down to the waters where the sea gulls call. It's a long road and sunny, it's a long road and old, And the brown padres made it for the flocks of the fold; They made it for the sandals of the sinner-folk that trod From the fields in the open to the shelter-house of God.
Seite 80 - Wild poppies crowd on the sunny banks; A bee booms out of the scented grass; A jay laughs with me as I pass. I ride on the hills, I forgive, I forget Life's hoard of regret — All the terror and pain Of the chafing chain. Grind on, O cities, grind: I leave you a blur behind.
Seite 325 - I'll send you Men again! Lo, here in my wind-swept reaches, by my marshalled peaks of snow, Is room for a larger reaping than your o'ertilled fields can grow; Seed of the Man-Seed springing to stature and strength in my sun; Free, with a limitless freedom no battles of men have won.
Seite 302 - The vertical curves and angles of the most precipitous torrents he traces with the same rigid fidelity, swooping down the inclines of cascades, dropping sheer over dizzy falls amid the spray, and ascending with the same fearlessness and ease, seldom seeking to lessen the steepness of the acclivity by beginning to ascend before reaching the base of the fall. No matter...
Seite 76 - There was a sprinkling, too, of Alaska and Siberia. From his windows on Russian Hill one saw always something strange and suggestive creeping through the mists of the bay. It would be a South Sea Island brig, bringing in copra, to take out cottons and idols; a Chinese junk with fan-like sails, back from an expedition after sharks' livers; an old whaler, which seemed to drip oil, back from a year of cruising in the Arctic.
Seite 336 - ... from the round-house to the terminus. Takes a heap of water to run it, though; double tanks at every station, and there isn't an engine in the shops that can pull a pound or run a mile with less than two gauges. But...
Seite 336 - I'll take the river road every time for a lovely trip, sure connections and good time, and no prairie dust blowing in at the windows. And yesterday when the conductor came around for the tickets with a little basket punch, I didn't ask him to pass me, but...
Seite 90 - IT WAS the green heart of the canyon, where the walls swerved back from the rigid plan and relieved their harshness of line by making a little sheltered nook and filling it to the brim with sweetness and roundness and softness. Here all things rested. Even the narrow stream ceased its turbulent down-rush long enough to form a quiet pooL Knee-deep in the water, with drooping head and half-shut eyes, drowsed a redcoated, many-ant lered buck.

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