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+The Song of Seven Cities
+------------------------
+
+I WAS Lord of Cities very sumptuously builded.
+Seven roaring Cities paid me tribute from afar.
+Ivory their outposts were--the guardrooms of them gilded,
+And garrisoned with Amazons invincible in war.
+
+All the world went softly when it walked before my Cities--
+Neither King nor Army vexed my peoples at their toil,
+Never horse nor chariot irked or overbore my Cities,
+Never Mob nor Ruler questioned whence they drew their spoil.
+
+Banded, mailed and arrogant from sunrise unto sunset;
+Singing while they sacked it, they possessed the land at large.
+Yet when men would rob them, they resisted, they made onset
+And pierced the smoke of battle with a thousand-sabred charge.
+
+So they warred and trafficked only yesterday, my Cities.
+To-day there is no mark or mound of where my Cities stood.
+For the River rose at midnight and it washed away my Cities.
+They are evened with Atlantis and the towns before the Flood.
+
+Rain on rain-gorged channels raised the water-levels round them,
+Freshet backed on freshet swelled and swept their world from sight,
+Till the emboldened floods linked arms and, flashing forward, drowned them--
+Drowned my Seven Cities and their peoples in one night!
+
+Low among the alders lie their derelict foundations,
+The beams wherein they trusted and the plinths whereon they built--
+My rulers and their treasure and their unborn populations,
+Dead, destroyed, aborted, and defiled with mud and silt!
+
+The Daughters of the Palace whom they cherished in my Cities,
+My silver-tongued Princesses, and the promise of their May--
+Their bridegrooms of the June-tide--all have perished in my Cities,
+With the harsh envenomed virgins that can neither love nor play.
+
+I was Lord of Cities--I will build anew my Cities,
+Seven, set on rocks, above the wrath of any flood.
+Nor will I rest from search till I have filled anew my Cities
+With peoples undefeated of the dark, enduring blood.
+
+To the sound of trumpets shall their seed restore my Cities
+Wealthy and well-weaponed, that once more may I behold
+All the world go softly when it walks before my Cities,
+And the horses and the chariots fleeing from them as of old!
+
+  -- Rudyard Kipling