FUJI—YAMA
To the fairest of his friends
This her faithful poet sends.
On the top of Fuji-San
Now we stand; and half Japan
Like a mighty map unrolled
Spreads beneath us, green and gold:
Southward, pale and bright, the sea
Shines, from distant Misaki,
Round Atami's broken coast,
'Till the silvery gleam is lost,
Mingling with the silvery sky,
Far away toward Narumi:
Northward, yonder line of blue—
Over Mino and Bi-shû—
(Say the guides) is Biwa Lake,
