The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-10-05
IN CAMP.

All that FIRST night in camp could not sleep.
Uneasy gladness and anticipation deep
OF rare companionship with nature dwelt with me
And restfully waited.
Came through the Swallowed silence to my ear
! he soothing voice of the stream caressing near
At hand the stones. the very air about its way.
Birds twttercd IN The boughs with early day,
And, too, Shy perfume of new-mown hay
And scent OF grass and bush and earth-so rare
To my dulled senses-swelIed on all the air.
With sun.up OF the perfect summer day
Through the spicy woods dim belt stole away,
Past the wistful horses tethered in the shade,
Whose cloudIess eyes for wood and me mirror
made,
Sllken skinned sweet of breath patient. still,
Obedient and faithful, waiting masters Will;
Past the wave-wGrn cliff, the nameIess modest
streams,
And up the pauseess, climbing road that seems
Too narrow for the shaggy, short necked teams
And freight OF powdered. quivering grapes,
Fresh from the vineyard that the hull crest drapes
In changeless verdancy.
Past the sounding flood tangled bank pours out
For man Ind beast-a hidden spring; about
Its sunless basin rocked a leaky pail:
Beneath the road to unseen ends the austere gale
OF waters swept; as though the hills. thought,
To compensate the weary climber sought
To keep this simple hospitality
Up to grassy submits played on by the breeze
From the phantom land of fog upon the
sweet silent scene! Within my vision lay
broad, checked Ian dscape stretching away
Like fine fretwork under the misty
shorn fields, and vineyards and young
That plenty promised. Downward cleaned the
shriues
The Fathers wisely built among their vines
That give such faultess thanks for leave to live.
o mountains distant with uprising friuged crown!
o hills purple-hued. fecked with green and brown
stream cmbowered. companion 10 grove and hills,
Flow on thy way. for thy nurmuring fills
With JOY my soul
o delightful tender hour
Preceding each sun that opes the cIeft-born flower
Leaning its slender stem toward that yellow light
That reddens the hazel clusters up each tangled
height.
Back from the pebby strand unwilling sank
The busy stream, and from bank TO bank
Smooth stones fording made
To where swept long boughs that opened out,
And ropes OF silvery gray moss Topped about
In testoOns; in the depths the first tide
OF dear wind came softly tossing the boughs aside
Letting fail trembling shafts of light between
That pierced a delicate tracery of living green,
Where blushing maidens, beautiful and bright,
Always more charming in shaded light.
With eyes sparkling and faces In smiles.
Tripped about through the shadowy atses
Or haunted the Drooklet's fringed side
When the MONDAY heat at high tide,
And the suns breath quivered DER hill and grove
When Ianguished the plant world, and the dove
And hare a covert sought.
It's this hour that delight
To iinger and listen to the fail and flight
or waters embowered in shadows deciously cool,
Singing and lcaping from pool to pool;
Where swarm our stars that glnmering lay
Reflected In the flood till Light of day
Smiles out each little silvery lamp
That vigil keeps above the white-winged camp.
October, 1890. Mrs. L. L. BALLARD.