2.  Up in the lonely tower he sits,
     The keeper of the crimson light: 
   Silent and awe-struck does he hear
     The imprecations of the night. 
   The white spray beats against the panes
     Like some wet ghost that down the air
   Is hunted by a troop of fiends,
     And seeks a shelter anywhere.

3.  He prays aloud, the lonely man,
     For every soul that night at sea,
   But more than all for that brave boy
     Who used to gayly climb his knee,—­
   Young Charlie, with his chestnut hair,
     And hazel eyes, and laughing lip. 
   “May Heaven look down,” the old man cries. 
     “Upon my son, and on his ship!”

4.  While thus with pious heart he prays,
     Far in the distance sounds a boom: 
   He pauses; and again there rings
     That sullen thunder through the room. 
   A ship upon the shoals to-night! 
     She cannot hold for one half hour;
   But clear the ropes and grappling hooks,
     And trust in the Almighty Power!

5.  On the drenched gallery he stands,
     Striving to pierce the solid night: 
   Across the sea the red eye throws
     A steady crimson wake of light;
   And, where it falls upon the waves,
     He sees a human head float by,
   With long drenched curls of chestnut hair,
     And wild but fearless hazel eye.

6.  Out with the hooks!  One mighty fling! 
     Adown the wind the long rope curls. 
   Oh! will it catch?  Ah, dread suspense! 
     While the wild ocean wilder whirls. 
   A steady pull; it tightens now: 
     Oh! his old heart will burst with joy,
   As on the slippery rocks he pulls
     The breathing body of his boy.

7.  Still sweep the specters through the sky;
     Still scud the clouds before the storm;
   Still naked in the howling night
     The red-eyed lighthouse lifts its form. 
   Without, the world is wild with rage;
     Unkenneled demons are abroad;
   But with the father and the son
     Within, there is the peace of God.

Note.—­Minot’s Ledge (also called the “Cohasset Rocks”) is a dangerous reef in Boston Harbor, eight miles southwest of Boston Light.  It has a fixed light of its own, sixty-six feet high.

CIX.  HAMLET.

William Shakespeare (b. 1564, d. 1616), by many regarded as the greatest poet the world has ever produced, was born at Stratford-upon-Avon, England.  He was married, when very young, to a woman eight years his senior, went to London, was joint proprietor of Blackfriar’s Theater in 1589, wrote poems and plays, was an actor, accumulated some property, and retired to Stratford three or four years before his death.  He was buried in Stratford church, where a monument has been erected to his memory.  This is all that is known of him with any degree of certainty.