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Chapter 8 Lukannon

  • This is the great deep-sea song that all the St. Paul seals sing when they ar_eading back to their beaches in the summer. It is a sort of very sad sea_ational Anthem.
  • 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!