The sunlight of the morning across the far hills broke,
From the dawn the veils of mists fell and faded as I work;
The sea was bathed with glory in a sweep of swirling fire,
And I wandered with my soul in the Land of Heart's Desire.
In the Land of Heart's Desire, in the dreamland of my soul,
And my boat was on the shore with its rudder and its thole,
With its white sails agleam and the soft winds blowing free,
And the Bay of San Diego shining blue against the sea.
Yonder from the hills blew the blithe breeze of morn,
The scent of the lemon on its breath of lotus borne,
The scent of the lemon from the mesas blowing down,
From Chula Vista's mesas to the sun-harbored town.
The lemon was in blossom, and shimmered in between,
Glowed the gold of the orange and the olive's flash of green;
I could see them from the waters that tippled blue and bright
On the Bay of San Diego in the golden morning light.
On the billows' far horizon I saw a white ship sail,
And backward o'er the hills stretched the world-wearied trail;
But the ship lured me not that beckoned to the main,
And the trail was not for me, though with gold it were lain.
There was no road for me wheresoever it might lay,
Wheresoever over land or the sea it stretched, that day;
All the voices of the world died and faltered, though they called,
When the Bay of San Diego held my soul, dream-enthralled.
'Tis still as God has made it in the gladness of His dreams,
With the never-ending Summer that forever o'er it gleams,
The mystic seas beyond it in the sunlight's golden fire,
And the Bay of San Diego in the Land of Heart's Desire.
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