POETRY.

FLANNAN ISLE.

"Though three men dwell on Flannan Isle To keep the lamp alight, As we steered under Ube lee we caught No glimmer through the night."

A passing ship, at dawn, had brought The news ; and quickly we set sail, To find out what strange thing might all The keepers of the deep-sea light.

The winter day broke blue and bright, With glancing sun and glancing spray, As o'er the swell our boat made way, As gallant as a gulf in flight. But as we neared the lonely Isle, And looked up at the naked height, And saw the lighthouse towering white, With blinded lantern that all night Had never shot a spark Of comfort through the dark : So ghostly in the:cold sunlight It seemed, that we were struck, the while, With wonder all too dread for words.

And, as into the tiny creek We stole, beneath the hanging crag We saw three queer, black, ugly birds-.

Too big by far, in my belief,

For guillemot or shag—

Like seamen sitting, bolt upright, Upon a half-tide-reef ; But as we neared, they plunged from sight Without a sound, or spurt of white.

And, still too mazed to speak, We landed, and made fast the boat, And climbed the track in single file, Each wishing he was safe afloat, On any sea, however far, So it be far from Flannan Isle. And still we seemed to climb and climb, As though we'd lost all count of time, And so must climb for evermore.

-Yet, all too soon, we reached the door--*

The black, sun-blistered lighthouse door-. That gaped for us ajar.

As on the threshold for a spell We paused, we seemed to breathe the smell Of limewash and of tar, Familiar as our daily breath, As though 'twere some strange scent of death ; And so, yet wondering, side by side We stood a moment, still tongue-tied ; And each with black foreboding eyed The door, ere we could fling it wide, To leave the sunlight for the gloom.

Till, plucking courage up, at last,

Hard on each other's.heels, we passed

Into the living room.

Yet, as we crowded through the door, We only saw a table spread For dinner, meat and cheese and bread But all untouched, and no one there : As though, when they sat down to eat, Ere they could even taste, Alarm had come, and they in haste Had risen and left the bread and meat; For, at the table-head, a chair Lay tumbled on the floor.

We listened; but we only heard The feeble cheeping of a bird That starved upon its perch ; And, listening still, without a word We set about our hopeless search.

We hunted high, we hunted low, And soon ransacked the empty house.

Then o'er the Island, to and fro We ranged, to listen and to look In every cranny, cleft or nook That might have hid a bird or mouse ; But though we searched from shore to shore, We found no sign in any place, And soon again stood face to face Before the gaping door, And stole into the room once more, As frightened children steaL Aye ; though we hunted high and low, And hunted everywhere, Of the three men's fate we found no trace Of any kind, in any place, But a door ajar, and an untouched meal, And an over-toppled chair.

And, as we listened in the gloom Of that forsaken living-room, A chill clutch on our breath, We thought how ill-chance came to alI Who kept the Flannan Light; And how the rock had been the death Of many a likely lad ; How six had come to a sudden end, And three had gone stark mad, And one, whom we'd all known as friend, Had leapt from the lantern one still night, And fallen dead by the lighthouse wall.

And long we thought On the three we sought, And of what might yet befall.

Like curs a blow has brought to heel, We listened, quaking there ; And looked, and looked, on the untouched meal And the overtoppled chair.

We seemed to stand for an endless while, Though still no word was said : Three men alive on Flannan Isle, Who thought on three men dead.

WILFRID WILSON GIBSON.