This is the great deep-sea song that
all the St. Paul seals sing when they are heading
back to their beaches in the summer. It is a sort
of very sad seal National 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!