Читать книгу THE TIME CAPSULE - Norman Smith D. - Страница 12

The Lighthouse

Perched upon the peak

Of some dismal rocky shore

Often secluded there you will find,

Proudly standing

And vigilantly giving a watchful eye

Overlooking the sea,

A lighthouse—the watchdog of the sea.

Decorated in white for all the world to see,

Shining its majestic beam from shore to sea

In hopes of aiding

Some bewildered ship to see

A navigable path

Safely to the port they seek.

Helping to avoid the perils that lurk

Beyond and beneath the fearful waves,

I am a beacon—my quest is

Some troubled soul to save.

May my gleaming light a pilot be,

For ships which without my light

Would be doomed at sea.

With glittering rays

From wave to wave,

Flashing streams of light

That seem to touch the horizon.

From a distance, my tower appears

To be touching the sky.

I am a beacon—my quest is

Some troubled soul to save,

No distinction have I made between friend and foe.

I have hosted them all—with open arms

I have welcomed many strangers to my shore,

Sheltered them in my humble abode;

But if by chance you heed not my warning,

Or if my light you do not see;

If you should fall victim to this dismal shore

And run aground or smash upon

A treacherous rock,

Then in earnest may God your pilot be

And guard you to safety.