As they creep to the feet of the hollow cliffs,
Fall back, roll in, forever,
There stands a light-house, white and tall,
That like the house in parable
Stands "on a rock," and braves the shock
When tempests beat and torrents fall.
Ghost-like at early dawn it looms
Above the gray cold ocean;
And, dull and chill, stands gloomy still
When wakes all else to motion.