[Lyric] Emerson (Clarence Clough Buel)

The Keeper of the Concord Light is dead,
And gone its shining way to Paradise;
From that Snug Harbor of the soul he spies
A beacon-glory round his memory shed
By waves that bring to hungry mortals bread,
Once cast upon the waters by the wise,
Kind hand that kept the Light. His startled eyes
Gleam heavenly joy, then fill with modest dread
And turn to greet the friends of other days,
Who lead him to his castles, late of Spain,
Within whose halls resound his unsung lays:
The while a busy world beneath the wain,
That plucks a star from Concord's peaceful ways,
In reverence pauses at a new-made fane.