I.

"Here will I make my home--for here at least I see, Upon this wild Sierra's side, the steps of Liberty; Where the locust chirps unscared beneath the unpruned lime, And the merry bee doth hide from man the spoil of the mountain thyme; Where the pure winds come and go, and the wild vine gads at will, An outcast from the haunts of men, she dwells with Nature still.