Clark Ashton Smith

In billow-lost Poseidonis
I was the god Ougabalys:
My three horns were of similor
Above my double diadem,
My one eye was a moon-wan gem
Found in a monstrous meteor.

Incredible far peoples came,
Called by the thunders of my fame,
And fleetly passed my terraced throne,
Where titan pards and lions stood,
As pours a never-lapsing flood
Before the wind of winter blown.

Before me, many a chorister
Made offering of alien myrrh,
And copper-bearded sailors brought,
From isles of ever-foaming seas,
Enormous lumps of ambergris
And corals intricately wrought.

Below my glooming architraves,
One brown eternal file of slaves
Came in from mines of chalcedon,
And camels from the long plateaux
Laid down their sard and peridoz,
Their incense and their cinnamon.

But now, within my sunken walls,
The slow blind ocean-serpent crawls,
And sea-worms are my ministers;
And wondering fishes pass me now,
Or press before mine eyeless brow
As once the thronging worshipers.

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