Finally, that we may be all at once all at once, when the coil is unwound and exhausted and begins to cool
And the corneal fillaments glaze into placid glass marble lakes, reflecting the small spurn of the world they held
That our soul should be upwelled
To the lapping stones of Valhalla, to be arisen by great arms and carried to our tableplace
To jest eternally of the great disgrace...
And woe of our whales, lost long afar
And the men who hunted them incessant
Pleasently warmed and vibrating with the humming mumble of the upper yards,
Worn travellers return to tired halls.
And sing,
"Hei do Yey-- be come what may,
High winter hünde beheld at bay
And Yeh they feed in rare reprieve
On souls of such we will not say.
Hei do lum-- what will be done,
What valor hark thy martyrdom
Upon thine breaths and storied crests
Upon thy tomb, thy charter won
Hei do ill, ye sum thy will
To heed thy lands upon the hill
Down back from whence thy kingdom lent
The battle-horn, heard she so shrill"
And I confessed,
"HEI DO LAI, TO WHICH I CRY,
MY CITY SLEEPS BELOW THE SKIES
AND DOES NOT SEEK TO SEE MY FEET,
OR EVERMORE AFFIX MY EYES."
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 7:49 PM UTC
Finally, that we may be all at once all at once, when the coil is unwound and exhausted and begins to cool
And the corneal fillaments glaze into placid glass marble lakes, reflecting the small spurn of the world they held
That our soul should be upwelled
To the lapping stones of Valhalla, to be arisen by great arms and carried to our tableplace
To jest eternally of the great disgrace...
And woe of our whales, lost long afar
And the men who hunted them incessant
Pleasently warmed and vibrating with the humming mumble of the upper yards,
Worn travellers return to tired halls.
And sing,
"Hei do Yey-- be come what may,
High winter hünde beheld at bay
And Yeh they feed in rare reprieve
On souls of such we will not say.
Hei do lum-- what will be done,
What valor hark thy martyrdom
Upon thine breaths and storied crests
Upon thy tomb, thy charter won
Hei do ill, ye sum thy will
To heed thy lands upon the hill
Down back from whence thy kingdom lent
The battle-horn, heard she so shrill"
And I confessed,
"HEI DO LAI, TO WHICH I CRY,
MY CITY SLEEPS BELOW THE SKIES
AND DOES NOT SEEK TO SEE MY FEET,
OR EVERMORE AFFIX MY EYES."
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