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 pass 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