BANCROFT LIBRARY o . THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA \ BANCROFT LIBRARY o THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 31ft of Mrs. A. R. Jaffa ere HISTORIC AND PROPHETIC, REV. O. W. GATES, BEFORE 1 (BUfflflf iiai SDEJKf f OF JP O I W T I, O M A K K M I K A It Y , Snn Diego, Cal., August 12th, 1875. SAN DIEGO: WORLD" BOOK AND JOfe PRINTING HOUSE. 1875. ?f S2 X CORRESPONDENCE. REV. O. W. GATES Dear Sir: The young ladies of tbe "Cliothean Society" request for publication a copy of your Poem " Glimpses of San Diego, Historic and Prophetic," delivered before the Society in Morton's Hall on tbe Second Anniver sary of Point Loma Seminary, August 12th, 1875; VERNA OVERBAUGH,^ G. SHELLENBERGER, ( Committee. LIN A SCHUMACHER, ) SAN DIEGO, CAL., August 20, 1875. MlSSES OVERBAUGH, SHELLENBERGER AND SCHUMACHER: In reply to your note requesting for publication a copy of the Poem read before your Society at the Anniversary of Point Loma Seminary, permit me to say, it was written without any thought of its coming before the public in printed form; but being assured that your request expresses the wish of many others, I will comply. Very respectfully, O. W." GATES. SAN DIEGO, CAL., August 25, 1875. [ii] 6 3-: U VV -Ht INTRODUCTION. The Poem, friends, that you expect to hear, May well. I think, be called the child of fear ! When asked to write in verse, I was afraid My truant muse beyond recall had strayed; No sooner subject had I sought and chose, Than fear advised, ''you'd better write in prose." I pushed ahead, but fear assailed my mind " Good poetrj T is very hard to find." I made some progress doubtless like a snail " Too slow," cried fear, "in quantity you'll fail;" Work told; it always tells, when good, and true, But fear reproached, " you never will get through;' I did, nathless, look! dou-bt it if you will; Then fear affirmed "you've made too big a pill;" I fear I have, but still must frankly own, Just how to split the pill I have not known; Upon whichever part my choice may hit, You'll wish, I fear, that that were marked "omit." Enough of this; another thread I'll spin, Lest fear plague you that I cannot begin. GLIMPSES OF SAN DIEGO. DEVELOPMENT IN CREATION AND HISTORY GRADUAL. Who patient scans with scrutinizing gaze The rock-kept records of primeval days, "Will find this key unlocks the covert plan: By each creative act the Lord foreshadowed man. So he who reads the lesser, outspread page Where Clio writes, as age succeeds to age, Of busy brains concocting schemes untold, Of roving feet in search of hidden gold, Of direful War and all the woe he brings, Of smiling Peace and all the songs she sings, Of nations wrapped in all the pomp of power, Or cast to earth to rise again no more, Of kingdoms rent and empires on the wane, Their glory gone and gone their right to reign, Of hostile claims maintained by clash of swords, Or noble aims advanced by worthy words, Can, in the net-work of commingling lines. Find traces plain and undeceiving signs, That grand events, infolding good sublime Are seen in outline long before their time, But wait, like buds, concealing embryo blooms, Till Winter dies, and Spring, reviving, comes. Glimpses of San Diego. CALIFORNIA AN EXAMPLE. Hail California!- Karne of ma^ic spell, What tongue first spoke thee, tongue shall never tell. What language claims thee. gave thee to the race, No skill linguistic has the power to trace. Thy hand may reach to earliest days of yore, And lay its grasp on hoary Aryan lore. Thy germ may come from old Hebraic shoots, Or draw its life from Greek or Roman roots, May hold in trust some Aztec form or rite. Or tell some tale of Mexican delight; But ah! the secret thou hast kept thine o-wn, Locked in thy heart and never to be known. We murmur not, nor care whence rose thy name, 'Twill shine undimaned upon the -scroll of fame, Its lustre brightening as the years go by, Like ruddy East when morning paints the sky. So hail, once more, queen regnant of the West; A world attentive waits for thy behest, Looks where thy fields are piled with sacks for sheaves, Where drop thy fruits as drop the Autumn leaves; Turns where thy sons thy golden veins explore, And draw in streams thy wealth of long-kept ore, Then walks thy plains where countless flowers arise, And gem thy face as stars thy peerless skies. Alone, unmatched, just like thy giant trees, Thy fame shall fly on wings of every breeze, Sail with the- ships that plow the ocean plain, Fly on the track of each outgoing train, Glimpses of San Diego. Speak in thy treasures as they find their way, In streams increasing every passing day, Leap with each spark that thrills electric wires To light afresh hope's half-extinguished fires. TRIBUTE TO CALIFORNIA. But why sing on? or why this strain prolong? A theme so vast demands a nobler song. Like her long-lived, decay-resisting palms, The land of David lives in David's psalms. Greece lives in Homer; Virgil rose and spoke For martial Rome; then Dante came and woke For his loved Italy, sad, deathless strains, As Ossian sang his Scandinavian plains, Or bard of Avon photographed his age, And latest time will read the pictured page, u ,tn Thou too, broad land, some time shalt find a tongue To tell the world what Harie has left unsung. So, mother State, accept our filial vow, And bind this garland on thy shining brow. Long may thy borders rest in perfect peace; As years roll on, may worth and wealth increase, May faithful sons through all thy length be found; May love-lit homes on every hand abound; May learning rear for thee her shielding walls, And art, with science, deck thy classic halts; May truth divine, spread wide and far her light, And holy faith keep all thy altars bright, Glimpses of San Diego. Nor chance appear for error, wrong, or crime, To loose thy grasp on destiny sublime. Thus live, O State, secure from every ill, So large an orb our Muse despairs to fill, But, venturing less, for skiffs keep near the shore, Will trace the men and fading scenes of yore, And mark the steps of joy and now of woe, Whence sprang this town a century ago. Then, should our Muse gain courage as she sings, Her eye grow clear, and strong her unused wings, She may attempt, led on by faith's strong hand, To tell in verse your later "promised land." SAN DIEGO. Hail, San Diego! first of all the names. That hold in trust a mission's ancient claims. 'Neath thine, no doubt, some mystic volume lies, Its pages hid from all inquiring eyes, Securely clasped its lid no hand may lift, Bequeathed to time, time guards her sacred gift, A secret safe, since question her who may, She answers not; nor motions "yea," or "nay." ^ JESUITS. Not thus concealed is every track and trace Of those stern men who hied from place to place, To danger deaf, not counting earthly loss, Their zeal aflame to bear and plant the cross; Glimpses of San Diego. Bound by their oath to bravely do and dare, They marched abroad for labor anywhere. Ease, pleasure, comfort, all they freely gave To live and serve, or fill an early grave. Fanatics were they, well, no doubt 'tis true, But e'en from Jesuits hold not honor due. Go where you will through earth's extended zones, You find the mounds where rest their wasting bones; Look where you will some footprint will appear Of Jesuit monk fulfilling his career. LOYOLA. Be patient, friends, chide not these long delays, On men and scenes of past and buried days; The Jesuit name calls up the daring man, Founder at once and leader of the clan, The monk Loyola, friend in youth of kings, Hence spared the ills that want to many brings, A chevalier, devoted to the dance, Wild sport his joy, with bow, and sword, and lance, Ambitious too, for place among the names. That fame repeats and gratitude proclaims Her sacred trust, her treasure, and her pride, While time endures and rolling centuries glide. Loyola fought in threatened citadel, As heroes fight, and, fighting, wounded fell. For many days hung even poised the strife 'Twixt frowning death and half extinguished life; Glimpses of San Diego. Life held the field; his rallied forces hurled The grim assailant to his own dark world. How changed the man! how changed his aims and cared! From carnal joys, he turns to fasts and prayers, From wealth and pomp, and royal courts and halls, He flies to hermit cell in cloistered walla, And there, in gloom as deep as starless night, Hie vow is made and he enrolled a knight. All that he has of genius, influence, fame, All that he hopes by sacrifice to gain, To Virgin, Pope, and Romish Church are given; Their favor won, he asks no other heaven" Let them but speak, his hand the sword shall draw, Their uttered word shall be his "higher law." The work assigned no scruples shall oppose; He merits most, who most intolerance shows. Misguided man! O had'st thou found the streams Of living truth, in place of mocking dreams, O had'st thou learned of Christ to seek and save, What fadeless light had shone above thy grave; What garlands fresh, of memory's choicest flowers, Had kept thy name embalmed for us and ours! LOYOLA'S SONS AS FOOTBALLS. In sport at football, 'tis the aim of all To hit and drive the unresisting ball. In kindred games by men and nations played, Loyola's sons have oft been footballs made, Glimpses of San Diego. Tossed hither, thither, never let alone, In favor now, now exiled and unknown. E'en father Pope, and holy mother Church, Though rather slow and often in the lurch, Have had a fancy for this stirring game, And kept it up till somewhat bruised and lame. FRANCISCANS IN LOWER CALIFORNIA. In such a game played on the lower coast, This Jesuit ball across the line was tossed By sons of Rome, who, masters to command, By right of might, enjoyed the conquered land. Charles Third, of Spain, of course he could not err, By royal word made haste to grant transfer Of missions, buildings, flocks and herds, and land, To favored fathers of Saint Francis' bund, Who, holding fast their rich and ill got store, Unsatisfied, were reaching out for more. Hence, as they wrought, their thought to Northward flew To broader fields, to scenes both strange and new. Nor can they rest; they hear a sovereign word, " Go plant the cross where Christ was never heard." Like soldiers true, they ask for no delay; At order given, they rise and march away, Some to the ships to lade the needful store, While some, in bands will march along the ahore. Glimpses of San Diego. VOYAGE AND MARCH. Scarce loosed from bonds, o'er paths no eye can see, Their loaded ships, strong camels of the sea, Track watery wastes, more treacherous than the sands, That hold entombed the wealth of Bedouin bands. Not long had breezes filled their hoisted sails, When ocean's wrath 'woke furious storms and gales, Which, at command, their onward course oppose, As army waves resist invading foes. Disease and death, wolves lurking everywhere, Hung on their track, with angry howl and glare, As days went by and nights on slow wings flew, And, in their greed, full many a victim slew. Want too, a fiend, as cruel as the grave, Fought full of rage these voyagers on the wave. What wonder then that most were snatched away, And stiff, and still, in ocean's bosom lay? And when on land, the muster roll was read, Silence replied, "enrolled among the dead?" What of the march from Villacata led. With father Crespo as its sacred head? The ills endured, the trials on the way, Were transient things, departing with each day. One fact remains; no change shall it efface; Your city's name, named then their resting place. A choice well made. Ah, name that cannot die! Take, San Diego, take thy destiny! Glimpses of San Diego. Claim tbou thy right, can aught thy right debar? Bide thou thy time, can it be distant far? Demand thy throne, made thine by sure bequest, And reign a queen unrivalled East and West ! FATHERS PICTURED. Those mission fathers! Ah! I see them now, Castilian firmness lined on every brow, Of stately mien, whereon was plainest trace Of strength Iberian, blent with Moorish grace, Robust of frame, strong, hardy, full of zeal, Courageous, cool, with curbed and conquered will, Endurance speaking in each steady eye; The nerve is theirs all danger to defy; Their faces glow with fires of kindly thought, Their souls aspire to deeds unselfish wrought, Their lives are simple, conscientious, true, Their virtues shine with such a pleasing hue. As hides in part, but gives no just excuse, For errors held, and power's prolonged abuse. Without attaining life's sublimest plan, They yet did good and served their brother man. Well, earnest men, our song ungrudging pays, Your clouded worth its proper meed of praise. The breadth and scope of love-awakened powers Were then unknown. Your age was not as ours. 10 Glimpses of San Diego. QUERY. What if those men of English pilgrim stock. Who first set foot on ice bound Plymouth rock, And faced serene, such crushing Winter woes, As want, and frost, disease and driving snows, Who wrung their food from hard and rocky soil, By sweat of face and never resting toil, And knew no good that was not dearly bought, Nor held a prize for which they had not fought. Had passed Point Loma, that December day, And moored the Mayflower in this peaeefuf bay, The shore and sea in sunshine all aglow, While yon tall heads wore only locks of snow, And then, from hence, had found their way abroad, To plant their schools and give the living word? Ah, well what if? It is not wrong to guess, This chosen race, led through the wilderness, And thus made pure by their Ilefiner's hand, Received in trust this Canaan as their land, Prepared to give whatever spot they trod, To equal rights, Soul liberty, and God. MAY. May, mild, sweet May,o'er all the fields is queen; The flowers, her maids, wear robes of gold and green; Young life keeps watch beside her ancient throne, And pays thereat its sovereignty alone. 11 Glimpses of San Diego. Her herald, beauty, waits her word to fly A glad evangel to the earth and sky. Her ministers of state are tali and bearded trees, Unbent by age, majestic, yet at ease; Her choral bands of music and of song Wake sweetest notes and then those notes prolong, While tar abroad, her martial host appears On dress parade, the sage, with lifted spears. May, thus enthroned, with ease and queenly grace, Spoke welcome words and gave the fathers place. "Go seek the spot by nature made most fair, Plant there your cross, rear up your altars there, My sister queens, of equal rank and power, Will each approve, and each her blessings shower." Long live these queens! Their gifts unstinted fall. By Wealth's abode, and Poverty's thatched wall. Since first the fathers in Saint Francis' name. O'er yon fair vale, spread out their patron's claim, Each queen, in turn, one hundred times and more, Has held her court and ruled this sunny shore. AT THE MISSION. Ah! here we stand by mission walls first piled, And scan the scenes that on their builders smiled. Say, O ye plains, that now before me lie, Were ye more fair to their enraptured eye? And ye glad hills, must ye in truth confess, Your robes have lost some charm of loveliness? 12 Glimpses of San Diego. O monarch mountains, say, if e'er than now, Did richer gems adorn your sun-lit brow? How could the crown my wondering eyes behold. To others seem more like illumined gold? Ye skies above, we lift our voice to you, Has one shade faded from your arch of blue? Or Time's rough touch been able once to mar. The diamond glisten of a single star? O ye bright clouds of chalcedony mist, And you, ye argosies, of amethyst, And ye, of amber, with your sails all set, Borne slow along through isles of violet, Did banners brighter ever greet the breeze, Than now ye wave above the ether seas? And thou, old Ocean, last to thee we seek, Say, hast thou changed? lift up thy voice and speak! But why the need? A soul that loved thee well, Had genius' tongue and could thy secrets tell, Has sung thy song, unequaled, unsurpassed, in strains sublime, that must all change out-last, "Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow, As at creation's dawn thourollest now." EARLY SCENES. Turn, truant Thought, awhile to pensive ways; Turn roving eye, and on these ruins gaze. A pall of sadness hangs on every part, A voice of grief appeals to every heart, 13 Glimpses of San Diego. For ruins speak; in tones inspired of woe, Of wasted lives, of hopes and homes laid low, Of buried thrones, of kings and kingdoms crushed, Of cities waste, their mirth and music hushed, Of sacred fanes, deserted, plundered, rent, And all they held to dark oblivion sent. Beside these walls that harsh decay has marred, Within these rooms all seamed and rudely scarred, Along these paths whose course we scarce can trace, Beneath these palms of solitary grace, In olive groves, where kindly nature weaves Her curious web of yearly fruit and leaves, Here at the pool, all broken, torn and dried, How like the men whose graves are at its side! Where'er we turn by meditation led. The past comes back, and with it those long dead. I see them now: Thought's eye, time never dims; I hear their songs, their sacred chants and hymns, I stand among them joined in friendly clans, Note their debates and how they form their plans, I heed the father chosen to command, Assign the service suited to each hand, Make known his will the law that each obeys, With ready zeal, nor murmers nor delays. See, on the plain, some shape adobe bricks, Or stack them dried, like gathered grain, in ricks, Or set on guard, are eyes for those who toil, Or, axe in hand, go forth for woody spoil. 14 Glimpses of San Diego. Some till the land for sowing precious grain, And wait in hope the softening Winter rain, Some give their thoughts to more domestic cares, Or serve in turn, in penance, fasts and prayers. These watch the flocks so did the men of old And those seek sheep for Christ the shepherd's fold, Lost sheep, whom wolves have scattered far and wide, But sheep indeed for whom the Savior died. Oh men! make haste, and call with winning voice, One sheep brought back shall make all heaven rejoice. Thus days and weeks on hasty wings flew by, Till Winter's signs were spread athwart the sky, Till rains came down, and earth, long parched, was cheered, And life renewed, on hill and plain appeared. Ah. spots are few where even lovely May Breathes softer airs than this December day. SABBATH SERVICE. Tis Sabbath now; in service all unite, And find therein true rest and pure delight. The hour and scene recall their early vows, That day a convert at their altar bows, The soul first won, attracted to their ranks, To learn their faith and mode of giving thanks. While nature smiles and skies serenely beam. And Indian eyes in stoic wonder gleam, The ruling father, self possessed and calm, In Latin speech, reads this selected psalm: 15 Glimpses of San Diego. "Except the Lord build up the house begun, The builders' work shall quick lj' be undone; Except the Lord the city safely keep, In vain the watch resists the call of sleep; Except the Lord calm all your rising fears, in vain your care, your labor, grief and tears. Learn, brothers, hence, to wait and work in trust That God in time will lift us from the dust, Will on our work his richest blessings shower, And make it speak in witness of His power." With many words like these he cheered and taught; Truth never fails, but error comes to nought. He scarce had ceased, when voices clear and strong, To suited notes, poured forth this new made song, Till echoes woke and rolled the clarion strains, A wave of music sweeping o'er the plains. SONG. Keen drop the star shafts through the air, Bright sails the moon above, The arching skies such brilliance wear, They seem a type of love. And, mother earth, peace on thy hiils, Inspires a holy calm; Life, everywhere, with rapture thrills, And sings its oft sung psalm. O Nature's God, in glory throned Far, far above our ken, 10 Glimpses of San Diego. What wealth of beauty Thou hast loaned To aid the joy of men! Since first we chose this hallowed spot, And knelt hereon for prayer. Thy goodness, Lord, has failed us not. Nor failed Thy tender care. Could hearts so blest, or hands refuse To rear for Thee this wall? No, toil is bliss, if but the dews Of grace around it fall E'en as the manna, heavenly fare Fell in such rich supplies. As on Want's night of black despair, Made Plenty's morning rise. Thy glorious name, O Christ, we bless, That one lost soul is found, The pledge, we trust, this wilderness. Shall yet be holy ground. In faith Thy promises we plcaiJ; Give Zion large increase; All hungry souls in mercy feed; All sin bound souls release. Long may these lowly rising towers He-echo songs of praise; The harbingers of good in showers, And near millennial days. 17 Glimpses of San Diego. LIFE IS TWO-FOLD. Two lives have men; one outward, one unseen, The first is known; not so the life within. This fact apply. When institutions start, Two streams break forth, but ever flow apart: This, still, and hidden, shuns the light of day, While that, aloud goes talking on its way. Unwelcome grief that Pain's fierce fire distills, Those hidden JO3"S that flow in quiet rills. Contritions tear blent with the secret sigh, Hot sweat beads wrung from souls in agony, Blood trickling down from wounds that never heal, Soft falling dews, the life of blighted zeal, The pelting rain of Sorrow's cloudy hours, When, strong, unstaid, come down the chilling showers, These are the springs though there are scores besides Of that hushed stream, which on in darkness glides Unchecked, while years are counted slowlj- o'er. To lose itself on some Lethean shore. The other stream, e'en when its course is done, By written word tells how its race was run, Shows where it grew, made strong by confluent flood, How shunned the spot where opposition stood; Shows whence it took, and where its burden dropped. How high it rose, and where its flood-tide stopped; It wrote its life, then threw the book away, And lo! that book is proof against 18 Glimpses of San Diego. Who will in ay read its broad and open page Not marred by change nor blurred by growing age. Thoughts, aims and plans wrought out in stubborn facts, Ennobling words the seeds of mighty acts, Broad acres tilled, so too, the acres cleared, Buildings designed, and then by labor reared. Vines taking root and spreading wide their hands. Dates, figs and olives brought from other lands, Increasing wealth of roving flocks and herds, Triumphs achieved alike by pens and swords, The round of toil wherein each brother strives, The converts won and trained to broader lives, These are the springs though there are scores besides Of that seen stream which, talking, onward glides, Expands, and swells, and rolls with noisy rush, And, wanting room, gives either bank a push. The figure take; for Clio's pen will tell Whoever asks, or takes the time to dwell Upon the growth the Mission tree attained, What fruit it bore, what place and strength it gained, Wherein it tailed, how withered, and then died, Because from Truth its root was not supplied. KEPT FOU FREEDOM. Oh! had the fathers with enlightened eyes Discovered half the rich and tempting prize, That lay concealed within this land of gold, What altered page. its history had unrolled ! 19 Glimpses of San Diego. Why did they not? We wait amazed and dumb, And hear ".Not yet, its very time had come." A mind A 11- wise locked here exhaustless stores, Till Freedom's flag had waved along these shores, And Freedom's sons had 'neath its folds upreared Homes lit by love, by woman's presence cheered, Retreats of joy, where Virtue builds her throne A nation's hope a nation's corner stone. APOLOGY. Slow moves my song; bui. do not yet complain; The old-time car was not our lightning train. Have patience then, while our slow muse unrolls, And paints in song the scenes of ancient scrolls; And though her strains fall far less soft and sweet, Upon your ears and souls that wait to greet, Than those once waked by fingers more on fire, From Orpheus' harp or bright*~A polio's lyre, Stiil follow on, and trust some glad surprise. Lurks where she leads and waits her word, to rise A scene of beauty that with joy shall thrill, And give reward for care, delay, and ill. INDIANS. A fading race! lo, such our land contains! A small, poor remnant, now, alas, remains! Like picture dim, and faint in every trace, Which wasting time will wholly soon efface; 20 Glimpses of San Diego. Or, like some trunk despoiled of robe and crown. Left all alone, its fellows smitten down By woodman's axe, it yields to sure decay, A sau memorial of a better day. Ye name them SAVAGE call them fierce and wild, As if kind heaven had never on thorn smiled, As if the blood that warms their souls and ours, Were gift to each from strangely adverse powers Theirs, hot and stained by passions hell has sent, Ours, mild and pure by heavenly charms inblent. Ah, no, indeed! the one Almighty Lord, Who rules all worlds, yea. made them by His word. Knows man as man, and in all" living souls, Where life divine, a tide immortal rolls, His image sees, a pledge and proof alone That, fatherhood, the weakest child will own, E'en when the crown of innocence is lost, His honor gone, his glory trailed in dust. His aims depraved, his destiny obscured. And he a slave by sinful snares allured. Though prodigal and outcast, man may roam. His heaven-born soul vvill whisper oft of home; Thus diamonds keep, when mini beclouds their sheen, A heart unchanged, whose flame pulse throbs unseen. True, brother men. your and your father*' mi