Looking for a lighthouse keeper
Climb the hill and turn around
Fallen stones and railway sleepers
Are scattered like rice across the ground
Severed hands of seven hunters
Poised as if to draw a bow
Arrow loosed to tear asunder
Whistles to the earth
I'll collect the feathers from the three black birds
That scattered as we landed on St Stephen's day
The Hesperus has bought me here to try to find you
Drawn in by the blinded eye
Confounded by the fearful mess you left behind
Who could pa** you by?
Has some raging serpent coiling
Dragged you from your posts
Bidden by a tempest to disturb your toiling work?
I don't believe it's so
Three good men were savaged by the same two things
That carried me to find them, on St Stephen's day
When I look upon
The shattered crane,
The battered rail, the severed chain
I know of no force so great
Save that which bore me here