And deck lights and wharf lights and lights upon pier-head and stair;
An edging of gold where a liner steals by like a thief;
The giant grey gleam of a searchlight that swings like a leaf;
And far out to seaward faint petals that flutter and fall
Against the white flower of the Lighthouse that gathers them all.
Then flower lights all golden with welcome—the lights of the inn;
And poisonous hell-flowers, lit doorways that beckon to sin;
Soft vesper flowers of the Churches with dark stems above;
Gold flowers of court and of cottage made one flower by love;
Beacons of windows on hillside and cliff to recall