Contemplative Poem Eighteen

O true Lighthouse,
O true lamp in the storm,
O true clarity in strife,
O director of our course at sea,

O only mediator,
Every ship thanks your light,
(the storm is abated by your power),
Brighter still!

O you have been unyielding virtue,
O diviner of the way through the dark,

O Beam of hope,
O Star of deepest inky black,
O Gleam of paradise,
O Not a ship before you crashed,
O You would keep us on,

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