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
