Explore "Hark, Where Poseidon's" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Hark, where Poseidon's / White racing horses / Trample with tumult / The shelving seaboard!
Older than Saturn, / Older than Rhea, / That mournful music, / Falling and surging
With the vast rhythm / Ceaseless, eternal, / Keeps the long tally / Of all things mortal.
How many lovers / Hath not its lulling / Cradled to slumber / With the ripe flowers,
Ere for our pleasure / This golden summer / Walked through the corn-lands / In gracious splendour!
How many loved ones / Will it not croon to, / In the long spring-days / Through coming ages,
When all our day-dreams / Have been forgotten, / And none remembers / Even thy beauty!
They too shall slumber / In quiet places, / And mighty sea-sounds / Call them unheeded.