1 Searock高出the sea, Searock he built, not ivory. Searock as well his haunted art Who gave to plunging hawks his hearts. 2 He loved to stand upon his head To demonstrate he was not dead. Ah, if his poems misbehave 'Tis only to defy the grave. 3 This exquisite patrician bird Grooming a neatly folded wing Guarded for years the Sacred Word. A while he sang then ceased to sing. 4 His head carved out of granite O, His hair a wayward drift of snow, He worshipped the great God of Flow By holding on and letting go.