To Atlantis
By S. R. Compton
15 July 2002
Great city, fabled isle, were you at the far end
Of the world, across the starry ocean,
As some aver? Or Krete's sister,
Now only a dead volcano's crater?
Atlantis! Home of philosopher-kings,
Bull-leapers, golden fruit,
The port of a thousand ships!
Scholars came to you; poets sang of you!
Atlantis! Emerald towers sunk
A hundred fathoms beneath the waves,
You were the world's first civilization,
And suffered every civilization's fate:
By man or nature destroyed--
Only the faintest traces whereof
In the sands of memory remain.
But, Atlantis--
Your crushed heart's wound
Still burns!
Copyright © 2002 S. R. Compton
S. R. Compton is an occasional poet. In the last century, he had poems in Star*Line, Velocities, and Alba. His previous publications in Strange Horizons can be found in our Archive. He works as a senior copy editor at PC World Magazine in San Francisco.