MAY 21.

THE YOSEMITE ROAD.

There at last are the snow-peaks, in virginal chastity standing!
Through the nut-pines I see them, their ridges expanding.
Ye peaks! from celestial sanctities benisons casting,
Ye know not your puissant influence, lifting and lasting;
Nothing factitious, self-conscious or impious bides in you;
On your high serenities
No hollow amenities
Nor worldly impurities cast their dread blight;
August and courageous, you stand for the right;
The gods love you and lend you their soft robes of white.

BAILEY MILLARD,
in _Songs of the Press._

MAY 22.

ON THE STEPS OF THE LECONTE MEMORIAL LODGE, YOSEMITE VALLEY.

I wonder not, whether it is well with this true seer,
Who saw, while dwelling in the flesh, foundations strong and broad;
I do not doubt that when he ceased to worship in this temple,
Serene, he passed from beauty unto beauty, from God to God.

BENJAMIN FAY MILLS.

Within, a whole rainbow is condensed in one of these magnificent
shells.

JOSIAH KEEP,
in _West Coast Shells._

MAY 23.

TO YOSEMITE.

The silence of the centuries,
The calm where doubtings cease,
And over all the brooding of God's presence
And the spell of perfect peace!
O Granite Cliffs that steadfast face the dawn,
O Forest Kings that heard Creation's sigh!
Teach me thy simple creed, that, living, I
May live like thee, and as serenely die!

E.F. GREEN.

TO THE UNNAMED FALL IN THE YOSEMITE VALLEY.

Thou needest not that any man should name thee;
God counts thine ethereal jewels, one by one;
And, lest some selfish, inappropriate word should claim thee,
Silent, we watch thee sparkle in the sun.

BENJAMIN FAY MILLS.

MAY 24.

The white man calls it Bridal Veil. To the Indian it is Po-ho-no,
Spirit of the Evil Wind.

The white man, in passing, pauses to watch the filmy cloud that hangs
there like a thousand yards of tulle flung from the crest of the rocky
precipice, wafted outward by the breeze that blows ever and always
across the Bridal Veil Meadows. By the light of the mid-afternoon the
veil seems caught half-way with a clasp of bridal gems, seven-hued,
evanescent; now glowing with color, now fading to clear white sun rays
before the eye.

BERTHA H. SMITH,
in _Yosemite Legends._

MAY 25.

MATCHLESS YOSEMITE.

High on Cloud's Rest, behind the misty screen,
Thy Genius sits! The secrets of thy b