Crossing The Bar

Sunset and eaventing star,

And one clear call for me.

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put me 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

Do you want to share your love for the written word? Please email me any poetry or short story that you would like to add to the collection. Or perhaps you have a comment or a sugestion, than please feel free to send that too.

Ariana St. Clair

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