Crossing the Bar
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for
me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and
foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and
Place
The flood may bear me
far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the
bar.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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