THE LIGHTHOUSE

MARY J. ELMENDORF.

High on the towering crag it stands,
This mighty Pharos of animate stone
Not built with hands.
Impregnable: of its kind, alone.
Yet ever akin by deific decree
To the sky and the shore and the harbor-bar,
Ships and the strength of the singing sea,
Mariners staunch and the evening star.

Truth is this rock-girt tower whose might
Foils the weapons of wind and wave:
And Love is the light.
Flashing far pinions to succor and save.
By its golden guidance, through tempest and dark,
Sailors the shelter of Spirit find,
Where each is guerdoned with peace, while his bark
At anchor rides in the harbor of Mind.