| 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. | |
| Down, down in that town shall settle hence, | |
| Hell, rising from its throne, no earthly moans, | |
| Shall do it reverence. | |
| There are open fanes and gaping graves | |
| Yawn level with the luminous waves | |
| But not the riches there that lie | |
| In each idol's diamond eye | |
| Not the 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 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. | |
| Far down within the dim west | |
| Where the good and the bad and | |
| The worst and the best | |
| Have gone to their eternal rest. | |
| Waves have now | |
| A red glow | |
| Hours breathe low | |
| No men moan | |
| [lyrics were adapted from the poem 'The City In the Sea' by Edgar Allan Poe] |
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