There is a hill-crowned city by a silver sea, near a _Golden Gate_. For ages, the water has washed from an almost land-locked bay against this hill-crowned city, and on its northern side has created of the shore an amphitheatre stretching for some three miles to the western headlands. Behind this amphitheatre rises, in terraces, the steep hills of this water-lashed city, and in part, a forest of pines stretches to the west. Man has flanked this reach of shore by two lowering forts, and in front, across the sapphire sea, one looks onto the long undulations of hills, climaxed by grand old Tamalpais.…
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