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| ‘THROUGH three men dwell on Flannan Isle | |
| To keep the lamp alight, | |
| As we steer’d under the lee, we caught | |
| No glimmer through the night.’ | |
| |
| A passing ship at dawn had brought | 5 |
| The news; and quickly we set sail, | |
| To find out what strange thing might ail | |
| The keepers of the deep-sea light. | |
| |
| The winter day broke blue and bright, | |
| With glancing sun and glancing spray, | 10 |
| As o’er the swell our boat made way, | |
| As gallant as a gull in flight. | |
| |
| But, as we near’d the lonely Isle; | |
| And look’d up at the naked height; | |
| And saw the lighthouse towering white, | 15 |
| With blinded lantern, that all night | |
| Had never shot a spark | |
| Of comfort through the dark, | |
| So ghostly in the cold sunlight | |
| It seem’d, that we were struck the while | 20 |
| 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, | 25 |
| For guillemot or shag— | |
| Like seamen sitting bolt-upright | |
| Upon a half-tide reef: | |
| But, as we near’d, they plunged from sight, | |
| Without a sound, or spurt of white. | 30 |
| |
| And still too mazed to speak, | |
| We landed; and made fast the boat; | |
| And climb’d the track in single file, | |
| Each wishing he was safe afloat, | |
| On any sea, however far, | 35 |
| So it be far from Flannan Isle: | |
| And still we seem’d 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— | 40 |
| The black, sun-blister’d lighthouse-door, | |
| That gaped for us ajar. | |
| |
| As, on the threshold, for a spell, | |
| We paused, we seem’d to breathe the smell | |
| Of limewash and of tar, | 45 |
| 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 | 50 |
| The door, ere we should fling it wide, | |
| To leave the sunlight for the gloom: | |
| Till, plucking courage up, at last, | |
| Hard on each other’s heels we pass’d | |
| Into the living-room. | 55 |
| |
| Yet, as we crowded through the door, | |
| We only saw a table, spread | |
| For dinner, meat and cheese and bread; | |
| But all untouch’d; and no one there: | |
| As though, when they sat down to eat, | 60 |
| 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. | 65 |
| |
| We listen’d; 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. | 70 |
| We hunted high, we hunted low; | |
| And soon ransack’d the empty house; | |
| Then o’er the Island, to and fro, | |
| We ranged, to listen and to look | |
| In every cranny, cleft or nook | 75 |
| That might have hid a bird or mouse: | |
| But, though we search’d from shore to shore, | |
| We found no sign in any place: | |
| And soon again stood face to face | |
| Before the gaping door: | 80 |
| And stole into the room once more | |
| As frighten’d children steal. | |
| |
| Aye: though we hunted high and low, | |
| And hunted everywhere, | |
| Of the three men’s fate we found no trace | 85 |
| Of any kind in any place, | |
| But a door ajar, and an untouch’d meal, | |
| And an overtoppled chair. | |
| |
| And, as we listen’d in the gloom | |
| Of that forsaken living-room— | 90 |
| A chill clutch on our breath— | |
| We thought how ill-chance came to all | |
| Who kept the Flannan Light: | |
| And how the rock had been the death | |
| Of many a likely lad: | 95 |
| 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: | 100 |
| And long we thought | |
| On the three we sought, | |
| And of what might yet befall. | |
| |
| Like curs, a glance has brought to heel, | |
| We listen’d, flinching there: | 105 |
| And look’d, and look’d, on the untouch’d meal, | |
| And the overtoppled chair. | |
| |
| We seem’d to stand for an endless while, | |
| Though still no word was said, | |
| Three men alive on Flannan Isle, | 110 |
| Who thought, on three men dead. | |
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