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 through 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 crossed the bar.