Hail, Poetry

Hail, Poetry

Speaking of epitaphs, here is another one to hope for, Alfred Lord Tennyson’s Crossing the Bar. It was chosen for my father’s funeral service program, and I have posted it previously on October 6 and November 4, 2013.

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 though from out our bourn 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.

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