We behold them anear and afar,
But not many among them, my brother,
Shine steadily on, like a star.
I think, were they trimmed night and morning,
They would never burn down or go out,
Though from the four quarters of heaven
The winds were all blowing about.
If once all the lamps that are lighted
Should steadily blaze in a line,
Wide over the land and the ocean,