Classic Poem

The flowers around Asilomar
Are blooming all the year,
Blue fields of lupine match the sky,
While golden stars grow near.
Wild lilacs deck the bending cliff
Where the rollers leap with a roar,
And the wind whistles in the tall pine-trees
On the old Pacific shore.

The sun sets over dunes and sea
As the waters bathe the sand,
The fog-bells ring a mournful dirge
For the wreckage on the strand;
We gather around a great bonfire,
In the old moon's lambent rays,
And we sing sweet songs of long ago
As we dream of other days.

Asilomar amid the drifting dunes
Where the rollers leap with a roar,
And the wind whistles in the tall pine-trees
On the old Pacific shore.