NEXT near a shore whose wooded hills...

NEXT near a shore whose wooded hills Touched, far away, the eastern sky, We paused to hear the gladsome trills Of land birds' songs as, fitting by, They sought their mates among the trees, And joined their notes with whispering breeze.

We listened then, with rapt delight— This time a tale of classic lore Our captain chose, with lofty flight; And far from that low-curving shore He took us, with that pleasing tale, Through leafy woods, o'er hill and vale.

AT birth of this fair city, 'mid These ancient liveoak trees, Athena, goddess fair, 'tis said, With her attendants came, And brought to it a name.

"Thou'rt Oakland," said the winsome queen; "A city proud thou'lt be! Thy beauteous lake, thy hills so green, Thy slopes that rise and fall, I crown, and bless them all.

While water pure, from mountain spring Shall make thy gardens smile And busy bees their sweets will bring From these rich blossoming fields That thine abundance yields.

Thy schools, thy colleges and halls Far-famed shall be on earth; The temples of Right within thy walls Shall flourish; and fair Truth Be prized by all thy youth."