Augustin S. Macdonald, comp. A Collection of Verse by California Poets. 1914.By Caxton(W. H. Rhodes)
The Golden Gate
As they grated on hinges hoary,
And loosened their bolts for a monarch to pass,
On his errands of guilt and glory.
Kneeling low at the foot of a Pharaoh,
And the Nile now waters an Egypt of graves,
From sepulchral Philæ, to Cairo.
Like Samson, at Gaza, of old,
On his shoulders her hundred gates have bore,
And covered their sheen with mold.
Unknown to the sages olden,
Young Freedom, at length, has her banner unfurled,
In a city whose Gate is Golden.
Its hinges are hills of granite,
Its bolts are the winds, its arch is the sky,
Its corner-stone a planet!
To priestess of On or of Isis,
Or covers the ground a monarch may tread,
With the slime of a minion’s kisses.
Enthroned on her hillocks seven,
He stands like a Roman, and breathes the free air,
And kneels to no God, but in heaven.
The Golden Gate of his glory,
For as long as the winds and the waters play,
It shall swing on its hinges hoary.