Across the harbor, up the mountain's base And down the curving shore, the far lights burn. By every gleam the hidden road I trace Through bend and turn. Due westward where the ridges dip and rise Are scattered farms, each one a glimmering spark. The village lights seem clustering fireflies Lost in the dark. O'erhead in fields vast as eternity, Through the calm night celestial beacons glow. Speak, brooding Ocean; their bright mystery Do you not know? Are they the lights of many a heavenly town Shining upon us through the streets of glass; Or do they mark the roads where up and down The spirits pass? |