On a wee small isle in the great deep sea
The lone, lone lighthouse stands;
To guide the ships that may pass by
En route to another land.
They pass and sail right onward
But few if any, say:
“We’re grateful to thee, brave lighthouse,
Thou hast helped us on our way.”
On a treacherous, nasty, hidden rock,
The lone, lone lighthouse stands;
To tell the ships that may pass by
That danger is nigh at hand;
The flash of her light at midnight
Or her white walls glare at noon
Oft, oft have saved the ships that pass
From a deep and early tomb.
Near the shifting sands that tide oft moves
The lone, lone lighthouse stands
To ward the ships that may pass by
Of the shifting, drifting sands;
Should she there at her post unfaithful be
Like the sands should she move around,
‘Twould be hard indeed to count or tell
The ships that might go a-ground.
On a bleak, unsheltered rocky coast
The lone, lone lighthouse stands,
To remind the ships that; may pass by
That they’re not far away from land;
Should her lighthouse fail in the stiff’ strong gale
Or in fog not be heard her bell,
What then might befall the ships great or small
Would surely be hard to tell.
At the entrance bright to the harbor fair
The lone, lone lighthouse stands;
To welcome the ships that may enter there
And again lend a helping hand;
Then safe in the sought-for harbor
The ship that has crossed the sea,
When, relieved of care she anchors there
She may well give thanks to thee.
Yes, many indeed are the danger zones
Where the lone, lone lighthouse stands,
Ever ready to warn, remind, or tell
Of the danger that’s nigh at hand
So the ships of the great vast ocean,
And others that coastwise go,
Don’t e’er forget that in greater part
To the lighthouse your life you owe.
And what of the man, that lonely man
Within the lone, lone lighthouse walls;
That the lighthouse keeps on the roughest night
Ever answers the needy call;
The lighthouse there, though strong and fair.
Without such a hand to guide,
Would soon need repair, and without this care
Its service would ne’er abide.
This world is a sea of danger zones,
And souls like the ships at sea,
Its waters sail in a bark that’s frail,
Scarce knowing what their fate may be;
They hope they may reach and enter
The haven of rest secure,
But danger is around and perils abound
And sailing is insecure.
So I’d like in my weakness, Lord, to be
On some spot in the danger zone,
A clear bright light on the darkest night
To some ship that is sailing home.
And there like the lighthouse, true to be,
At my post to firmly stand,
Thus aiding the ships that may pass by
En route to a better land.
But Thou dost know that the lighthouse. Lord,
Its usefulness soon would lose,
Were it not for the man, that lone, lone man
Who that lonely life doth choose.
Be pleased then to dwell in my heart, I pray,
That I might a lighthouse be
To some poor soul in the danger zone
On life’s wild, restless sea.
Truth Archive 