The Rocky Coast of Southern Maine

 

I visited son and his wife in Portland, Maine this past weekend and they took me to the beautiful area South of the city, including Higgins Beach, Cape Elizabeth, Two Lights and the Portland Head Light lighthouse, which I can now add to my survey of favorite lighthouses. Many believe that Longfellow, who grew up in Portland and spent a lot of time at these sites, was thinking of it when he wrote his 1849 poem "The Lighthouse". I've included the text of the poem beneath the photos. 

THE LIGHTHOUSE by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
  And on its outer point, some miles away,
The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
  A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. 

Even at this distance I can see the tides,
  Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
  In the white lip and tremor of the face. 

And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
  Through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light
  With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare! 

Not one alone; from each projecting cape
  And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
  Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. 

Like the great giant Christopher it stands
  Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
  The night-o'ertaken mariner to save. 

And the great ships sail outward and return,
  Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,
  They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. 

They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
  Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils,
  Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. 

The mariner remembers when a child,
  On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;
And when, returning from adventures wild,
  He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink. 

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
  Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
  Shines on that inextinguishable light! 

It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp
  The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
  And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece. 

The startled waves leap over it; the storm
  Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
  Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. 

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
  Of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
  Dashes himself against the glare, and dies. 

A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
  Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,
It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
  But hails the mariner with words of love. 

"Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships!
  And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,
  Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!"

A Peek Inside the General Theological Seminary

Most New Yorkers have walked the perimeter of the General Theological Seminary in Chelsea and wondered what was inside. Occupying the entire block between 20th and 21st Streets, 9th and 10th Avenues, the imposing complex is not open to the public, and has the look of a cloister. That look is intentional, of course, as it’s where the Episcopal Church has trained clerics for nearly two centuries. On December 5 (Krampusnacht, no less) your intrepid reporter had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the interior on a special tour sponsored by the GTS and Untapped Cities, and jointly led by the Dean of the School Michael W. DeLashmutt and Clement Clarke Moore expert Pamela McColl.

DeLashmutt center, McColl Speaking 

The occasion for this rare tour is the upcoming bicentennial of the publications of Moore’s poem, usually known by the title “’Twas the Night Before Christmas”. What’s the connection? you may wonder. The entire neighborhood of Chelsea was once the Moore family’s farm; the area now occupied by the GTS was the apple orchard. Moore’s father was a Bishop in the church and for a time President of King’s College, which later became Columbia. The seminary opened at its present location in 1827. Clement Clark Moore taught there for many years.

The Close

In 1878, Dean Eugene Augustus Hoffman expanded the campus, with a grand design that arranged building around a quadrangle in the manner of the Quad at Oxford. The impressive Chapel of the Good Shepherd opened to worshippers a decade later. 

Chapel Interior 

New construction and expansion continued throughout the 20th century. The present era finds the institution on a time of consolidation and retrenchment, the most obvious illustration of which is the High Line Hotel, which is in a building sold by the GTS in 2010. 

Benediction and Dismissal