The city in the sea

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 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 reverance.
No rays from heaven coming down,
On the long night time of that town,
But light from out lurid sea,
Streams up the turrets silently,
Gleams up the pinnacles for 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 have been.
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;
Aquiescently beneath the sky,
the melancholy waters lie.
The waves have now 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.
Down, down in that town, shall
settle hence, Hell, rising from its throne,
no earthly moans, Shall do it reverence.
There open fanes and graping graves.
Yawn level with the luminous waves. But not the rices there
that lie, In each idol's diamond eye.
Not gaily-jewelled dead. Tempt the
waters from their bed. So blend the
turrets, shadows there. That
all seem pendulous in air. While from
a tower in the town, death
looks down. But lo, a stir is in the air!
The waved 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.
Far down within the dim West.
Where the good and bad the,
The worst and the best - Have gone
to their eternal rest. Waves have now
- A red glow - Hours breathe low - No men moan