In the dark night, he walks the streets.
By his side is a lantern with the softest of glows.
In his hand, a long pole, a candle at the end.
People pass him by, so easily forgotten among men.
He does his duty, raising a flame in the basket of wood
high above the heads of all.
His watchful eye makes sure no sparks fly, the fire will last,
before moving on down the street.
Brightening the way as he goes,
This old time lamp-lighter.

You have been just that to me,
my dearest lamplighter.
My path was dark and unclear.
You lit the road of my life with friendship and love,
making sure each dream, hope and wish blazed successfully before moving on.
My road is eternally bright because of you.
In doing your job, you became my friend.
We walk the roads together,
hand in hand,
lighting the way for others.