THE CITY IN THE SEA. I. Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West; Where the good and the bad, and the worst and the best, Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines, and palaces, and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. The melancholy waters lie. II. No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town But light from out the lurid sea Streams the turrets silentlyup - Gleams up the pinnacles far and free Up domes-up spires-up kingly halls- The viol, the violet, and the vine. The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there While from a proud tower in the town III. There open fanes and gaping graves But not the riches there that lie Tempt the waters from their bed; Along that wilderness of glass; No swellings tell that winds may be Upon some far-off happier sea; No heavings hint that winds have been IV. But, lo a stir is in the air! The wave-there is a movement there! Down, down that town shall settle hence, Ar midnight, in the month of June, The rosemary nods upon the grave; The lily lolls upon the wave; A conscious slumber seems to take, II. Oh, lady bright! can it be right, So fitfully-so fearfully Above the closed and fringed lid 'Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid, E |