  H HIGH in the windy lighthouse tower The lamps are burning free, Each sending with good-will and power Its message o’er the sea, Where ships are sailing out of sight, Hidden in storm and cloud and night. On the white waves that seethe and dash A ruddy gleam is shed; Above, the lighted windows flash Alternate gold and red, Save where one sad and blinded glass Forbids the happy light to pass. The hungry sea entreats the light, The struggling light is fain, But obdurate and blank as night Rises the darkened pane, Casting a shadow long and black Ah, who shall say what drowning eyes Yearn for that absent ray; What unseen fleets and argosies, Ploughing a doubtful way, Seek through the night, and grope and strain For guidance from that darkened pane? Ah, Light Divine, so full, so free! Ah, world that lies in night! Ah, guiding radiance! shine through me Brightly and still more bright, Nor ever be thy rays in vain Because I am a “darkened pane.” |
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