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LIGHTHOUSE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The scene was more beautiful far to the eye
Alternate Author Name(s): Little, Thomas

The scene was more beautiful far to the eye,
Than if day in its pride had arrayed it:
The land-breeze blew mild, and the azure- arched sky
Looked pure as the spirit that made it:
The murmur rose soft, as I silently gazed
On the shadowy waves' playful motion,
From the dim distant hill, 'till the light-house fire blazed
Like a star in the midst of the ocean.

No longer the joy of the sailor- boy's breast
Was heard in his wildly-breathed numbers;
The sea-bird had flown to her wave-girdled nest,
The fisherman sunk to his slumbers:
One moment I looked from the hill's gentle slope,
All hushed was the billows' commotion,
And o'er them the light-house looked lovely as hope, -
That star of life's tremulous ocean.

The time is long past, and the scene is afar,
Yet when my head rests on its pillow,
Will memory sometimes rekindle the star
That blazed on the breast of the billow:
In life's closing hour, when the trembling soul flies,
And death stills the heart's last emotion;
Oh, then may the seraph of mercy arise,
Like a star on eternity's ocean.

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