I came from Santa Barbara —
I went to San Jose —
Blue sky above — blue sea beside,
Wild gold along the way —
The lovely lavish mustard gold
Ran wild along the way
The purple mountains loomed beyond,
The soft hills rolled between,
From crest to crest,
Like smoke at rest,
The eucalyptus screen
Its careless foliage drifting by
Against that blue enfolding sky
In wreaths of dusky green —
With drowsing live-oak masses thick
On the slopes of April green —
More joy than any eye can hold —
In restful blue, in rousing gold —
Bright bronze & olive green.