The Lighthouse

Burning upon some hidden shore
Across the sea one night
(“A little reef,” the Captain said),
We saw a shining light.

He said there was a lighthouse there
Where, lonely in the sea,
Men lived to guard that moving light,
And trim the lamp for me.

For me, for him, for every ship
That passes by that way.
I thought it must be strange and quiet
To be there every day.

They have no shops, no fields, no streets;
No whispering sound of trees,
But always shouting at their feet
The great voice of the seas.

And when we sleep at night they wake,
And over every wave
They send that straight strong arm of light
Stretched like a rope to save.
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