The Poem of Pescadero by Mrs. H.L. Good
“Like a bird’s nest in an old oak tree,
Or a pearl within a shell,
Lies the village Pescadero,
Near where restless seawaves dwell
Round her rise the rugged hilltops,
And beside her runs the stream
Where the silver brook trout, gracefully,
Glide along like loves young dream.
Every object has its shadow,
Pleasure is tempered oft by pain,
And upon the hillside yonder
In the sunshine and the rain.
Lies a little group of earth mounds
Telling plain as mute things can
That our dearest joys are fleeting—
Even life is but a span.
In this little happy valley
Generous souls have proved their worth
And to loyal hearts who love her,
She’s the dearest spot on earth.”