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Lenses

The Light-Keeper

The brilliant kernel of the night,

The flaming light room circles me:

I sit within a blaze of light

Held high above the dusky sea.

Far of the surf doth break and roar

Along bleak miles of moonlight 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.

The clear bell chimes: the clockwise strain,

The turning lenses flash and pass,

Frame turning within glittering frame

With frosty gleam of moving glass:

Unseen by me, each dusky hour

The sea-waves welter up the tower

Or in the ebb subside again;

And ever an anon all night,

Drawn from afar by charm of light,

A sea bird beats against the pain.

And lastly when dawn ends the night

And belts the semi-orb of sea,

The tall, pale pharos in the light

Looks white and spectral as may be.

The ebb is out: the green

Straight belt of seaweed now is seen,

That round the basement of the tower

Marks out the interspace of tide;

And watching men are heavy-eyed,

And sleepless lips are dry and sour.

The night is over like a dream:

The sea-birds cry and dip themselves:

And in the early sunlight, steam

The newly bared and dripping shelves,

Around whose verge the glassy wave

With lisping wash is heard to lave;

While, on the white tower lifted high,

The circling lenses flash and pass

With yellow light in faded glass

And sickly shine against the sky.

-- Robert Louis Stevenson

Chris J LeBlanc Photography - Lighthouses

Providing details and historical information of lighthouse pictures taken during my travels

Click on the picture to view a complete selection of lighthouses in that region.