Lukannon

• I met my mates in the morning (and, oh, but I am old!)
• Where roaring on the ledges the summer ground-swell rolled;
• I heard them lift the chorus that drowned the breakers' song—
• The Beaches of Lukannon—two million voices strong.
• The song of pleasant stations beside the salt lagoons, The song of blowing squadrons that shuffled down the dunes, The song of midnight dances that churned the sea to flame—
• The Beaches of Lukannon—before the sealers came!
• I met my mates in the morning (I'll never meet them more!);
• They came and went in legions that darkened all the shore. And o'er the foam-flecked offing as far as voice could reach We hailed the landing-parties and we sang them up the beach.
• The Beaches of Lukannon—the winter wheat so tall—
• The dripping, crinkled lichens, and the sea-fog drenching all!
• The platforms of our playground, all shining smooth and worn!
• The Beaches of Lukannon—the home where we were born!
• I met my mates in the morning, a broken, scattered band.
• Men shoot us in the water and club us on the land;
• Men drive us to the Salt House like silly sheep and tame, And still we sing Lukannon—before the sealers came.
• Wheel down, wheel down to southward; oh, Gooverooska, go!
• And tell the Deep-Sea Viceroys the story of our woe;
• Ere, empty as the shark's egg the tempest flings ashore, The Beaches of Lukannon shall know their sons no more!