I.

How broad and bright athwart the wave, Its steadfast light the Beacon gave! Far beetling from the headland shore, The rock behind, the surge before,-- How lone and stern and tempest-sear'd, Its brow to Heaven the turret rear'd! Type of the glorious souls that are The lamps our wandering barks to light, With storm and cloud round every star, The Fire-Guides of the Night!