Yon glacial torrent's deep, hoarse lute Its upward music flings-- The great, eternal crags stand mute, And listen while it sings O mighty range! Thy wounds and scars, Thy weird, bewildering forms, Attest thine everlasting wars-- Thy heritage of storms And still what peace! Serenity On crag and deep abyss, O, may such calmness fall on me When Azrael stoops to kiss. GEORGE N. LOWE. FEBRUARY 26. Tamalpais is a wooded mountain with ample slopes, and from it on the north stretch away ridges of forest land, the out posts of the great Northern woods of _Sequoia sempervirens_, This mountain and the mountainous country to the south bring the forest closer to San Francisco than to any other American city. Within the last few years men have killed deer on the slopes of Tamalpais and looked down to see the cable cars crawling up the hills of San Francisco to the south. In the suburbs coyotes still stole in and robbed hen roosts by night. WILL IRWIN, in _The City That Was._ FEBRUARY 27. DAWN ON MOUNT TAMALPAIS. A cloudless heaven is bending o'er us, The dawn is lighting the linn and lea; Island and headland and bay before us, And, dim in the distance, the heaving sea. The Farallon light is faintly flashing, The birds are wheeling in fitful flocks, The coast-line brightens, the waves are dashing And tossing their spray on the Lobos rocks. The Heralds of Morn in the east are glowing And boldly lifting the veil of night; Whitney and Shasta are bravely showing Their crowns of snow in the morning light. The town is stirring with faint commotion, In all its highways it throbs and thrills; We greet you! Queen of the Western Ocean, As you wake to life on your hundred hills. The forts salute, and the flags are streaming From ships at anchor in cove and strait; O'er the mountain tops, in splendor beaming, The sun looks down on the Golden Gate. LUCIUS HARWOOD FOOTE. FEBRUARY 28. ENOUGH. When my calm majestic mountains are piled white and high Against the perfect rose-tints of a living sunrise sky, I can resign the dearest wish without a single sigh, And let the whole world's restlessness pass all unheeded by. MARY RUSSELL MILLS. FEBRUARY 29. MARSHALL SAUNDERS ON SAN FRANCISCO.