Brightly Beams Our Father’s Mercy
From His Lighthouse Evermore,
But To Us He Gives The Keeping
Of The Lights Along The Shore.
Let The Lower Lights Be Burning;
Send A Gleam Across The Wave.
Some Poor Fainting, Struggling Seaman
You May Rescue, You May Save.

Dark The Night Of Sin Has Settled;
Loud The Angry Billows Roar.
Eager Eyes Are Watching, Longing,
For The Lights Along The Shore.
Let The Lower Lights Be Burning;
Send A Gleam Across The Wave.
Some Poor Fainting, Struggling Seaman
You May Rescue, You May Save.

Trim Your Feeble Lamp, My Brother;
Some Poor Sailor, Tempest-Tossed,
Trying Now To Make The Harbour,
In The Darkness May Be Lost.
Let The Lower Lights Be Burning;
Send A Gleam Across The Wave.
Some Poor Fainting, Struggling Seaman
You May Rescue, You May Save.

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