Far Horizons

by Bliss Carman


 

VICTORIA


 

WHERE the traveller looks from Saanich,
Fair is the sight he sees,
A gracious imperial city
Guarding the gates of the seas,
With a robe of golden English broom
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Spreading about her knees.

Lovely, with old-world leisure
Gracing her modest state,
In youthful pride of dominion
She sits by the Western gate,

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Watching the liners come and go
Through Juan de Fuca Strait.

She is crowned with ivy and laurel
Fresh with an ageless spring;
Tales of the East and news of the North

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Her sheltered sea-lanes bring;
And all her beauteous days go by,
Soft as a gray gull’s wing.

Child of the strong adventure,
Bred to the clean and fine,

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With touch of the velvet tropics
And eyes with the Northern shine,
Never to be forgotten—
Last of the Sea-Kings’ line.