To burn, a beacon o'er His lonely seas."
Once more he paused; and perilous silence swayed
Between them, until Oswald, quaking, rose,
As one who dared no longer rest beneath
O'er-toppling doom. Yet, with calm voice, he spake:
"Even within this wilderness abides
Such beauty that, in your brief sojourn here,
Your soul shall starve not; all about you sweeps
The ever-changing wonder of the sea;
But if, too full of bitter memories,