The Light-Keeper
by Robert Louis Stevenson

The brilliant kernel of the night, The flaming lightroom circles me: I sit within a blaze of light Held high above the dusky sea. Far off the surf doth break and roar Along bleak miles of moonlit shore, Where through the tides the tumbling wave Falls in an avalanche of foam And drives its churned waters home Up many an undercliff and cave. ··· Robert Louis Stevenson 1850-1894 ··· Source: The Penguin Book of Victorian Verse, Pg 685

The Light-Keeper II
by Robert Louis Stevenson

As the steady lenses circle With frosty gleam of glass; And the clear bell chimes, And the oil brims over the lip of the burner, Quiet and still at his desk, The Lonely Light-Keeper Holds his vigil. Lured from far, The bewildered seagull beats Dully against the lantern; Yet he stirs not, lefts not his head From the desk where he reads, Lifts not his eyes to see The chill blind circle of night Watching him through the panes. This is his country’s guardian, The outmost sentry of peace, This is the man Who gives up what is lovely in living For the means to live. Poetry cunningly guilds The life of the Light-Keeper, Held on high in the blackness In the burning kernal of night, The seaman sees and blesses him, The Poet, deep in a sonnet, Numbers his inky fingers Fitly to praise him. Only we behold him, Sitting, patient and stolid, Martyr to a salary. ··· Robert Louis Stevenson ···