The City in the Sea The Ocean Collective

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Lo! a strange town, lying alone

Death has reared himself a throne
Far down in the west
Where the good, bad, worst, and the best have gone to their eternal rest
There, shrines and towers:
Death has reared himself a throne

Time-eaten towers that tremble not
Resemble nothing, nothing that is ours
Down, down in that town, shall settle hence:
Hell rising from its throne, no earthly moans
Shall do it reverence

No rays from heaven coming down
On the long night-time of that town
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free
Up domes -- up spires -- up kingly halls --
Up fanes -- up Babylon-like walls --

No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happy seas
No heavings hint that winds may be
On seas less hideously serene
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave -- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside
In slightly sinking, the dull tide
Acquiescently beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie
The waves now have a redder glow
The hours are breathing faint and low
And when, amid no earthly moans
Down, down in that town, shall settle hence
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones
Shall do it reverence