The Prologue

(Slow music all the time; unseen speaker; curtain down.)

A story of those rocks where doom'd ships come To cast them wreck'd upon the steps of home, Where solitary men, the long year through-- The wind their music and the brine their view-- Warn mariners to shun the beacon-light; A story of those rocks is here to-night. Eddystone Lighthouse!

(Exterior view discovered.)

In its ancient form, Ere he who built it wish'd for the great storm That shiver'd it to nothing, once again Behold outgleaming on the angry main! Within it are three men; to these repair In our frail bark of Fancy, swift as air! They are but shadows, as the rower grim Took none but shadows in his boat with him.

So be ye shades, and, for a little space, The real world a dream without a trace. Return is easy. It will have ye back Too soon to the old beaten dusty track; For but one hour forget it. Billows, rise; Blow winds, fall rain, be black, ye midnight skies; And you who watch the light, arise! arise!

(Exterior view rises and discovers the scene.)