The downs and tender-tinted cliffs are lost, And nothing but the guardian fire remains -- That crimson-headed tower on the rough coast, Whose steady lustre ceases not, nor wanes Till sunrise from the east reveals to us The mightly Vectian wold, and tawny tract Of shingle, seen through bowers of arbutus, Like some fair corn-field, mellow and compact. How that deep glow the deepening gloom attests! How much is by that noble lighthouse taught! Mine eye rests on it, as the spirit rests In sorrow, on some holy, ardent thought, The sole beam in our darkness! Those who dwell Near these great beacons are instructed well. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY YOUTH by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES ONE POET VISITS ANOTHER by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE MEMORY OF MARTHA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR CENTENNIAL MEDITATION OF COLUMBIA by SIDNEY LANIER THE FARMER'S BRIDE by CHARLOTTE MEW PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 44. ALLAH-AL-RAKIB by EDWIN ARNOLD AS LOVELY AS THEY by EVA MARBELL BONDI |