"the city in the sea"-edgar allan poe

<p>i can’t seem to put my finger down on the theme. so far, i’ve come up with the fact that death is looming on this earth, despite all of our attempts to escape from it. Our way of life will lead us to an ultimate hell that we cannot stop, only fall to willingly because we know there is no other way.</p>

<p>The City in the Sea
Edgar Allan Poe</p>

<p>Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie. </p>

<p>No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls- </p>

<p>Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine. </p>

<p>Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down. </p>

<p>There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol’s diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene. </p>

<p>But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence. </p>

<p>thanks for the help.</p>

<p>All our efforts are in vain? The glory we prize now is worthless in the future–will be utterly forgotten? Greatness falls the furtherest?
“the dim West”–interesting, because the West has always been seen as a sign of hope, from early settlers to “Grapes of Wrath”-like search for a new land. Is he mocking this hope?
It seems like this destiny was forced upon the city–“Resignedly beneath the sky.”</p>