The Lighthouse.
When night first spread her curtain o’er the deep,
Firm based beneath the waves the lighthouse tower
Rose to the clouds, and mariners once more
Blest the bright gleam that o’er them ward would keep.
When rose the moon, the sea lay all asleep,
It’s dreaming waves enfolded by the shore:
And founded on the rock, of iron its door,
The beacon flashed its light across the deep.
Then rose the storm and lashed the waves until
They roared like wounded lions, and there raved
The elemental forces, shock on shock:
And all the great sea’s batteries worked their will
That never more should ship through it be saved.
The rising sun looked out and saw—the Rock.