1.    Brightly beams our Father's mercy,
From His lighthouse evermore;
But to us He gives the keeping
Of the lights along the shore.

2.    Dark the night of sin has settled,
Loud the angry billows roar;
Eager eyes are watching, longing,
For the lights along the shore.

3.    Trim your feeble lamp, my brother:
Some poor sailor, tempest-tossed,
Trying now to make the harbour,
In the darkness may be lost.

CHORUS
Let the lower lights be burning!
Send a gleam across the wave!
Some poor fainting, struggling seaman
You may rescue, you may save!

RS 455