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 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.
This is one of the most powerful poems of all time. It was read as an eulogy for Helen Nearing, and is a tribute to the courage each of us has to face our lives with commitment for a journey none understands completely.
At the time of writing, Tennyson was losing his sight and preparing to meet his final days. Each stanza metaphorically demonstrates the way he wanted his life to be celebrated. Read carefully between the lines and it can be discovered that he likened his life to a voyage, and from that voyage he was preparing to sail back home to his Maker. The “bar” is in fact that sandbank that lies in the estuary of a river. The sand moans softly under the weight of the outgoing tide, symbolising the notion of friends weeping as he departed. And of course, the “bourne, ” his point of departure, is his little kingdom, the mouth of his river. A truly spiritual and majestic poem, a brave and inspiring monument to an extremely brave man.
An endearing and enduring masterpiece. A poem that has been used to console and encourage the heart of many for over a century. A 'sincere thank' you to the Late Mr. A. L. Tennyson.
One of Tennyson's finest poems and one the greatest poems about ageing and mortality ever written. So much wisdom and so many feelings conveyed by someone facing their death.
i love this poem. It reminds of a young little boy pretending to be a strong mighty sailor.
My brother-in-law posted this poem with my late husband's photo.My husband served in the Coast Guard for 26 years.He passed away last month after a 16 month battle with brain cancer..In my opinion this poem is one of the best poems ever written about dying and death..
UGH horrible reading by robot. Can't you find a human to do it.
Our mother recited this poem from her hospital bed eight years ago. It was the last time I saw her alive. She passed a few days later at 89, a gifted woman who gave way more than she received. Last night my sister and I recalled that day in the hospital. Couldn't remember who wrote it, so after we hung up I pulled out Bartlett's Quotations, and there it was, Tennyson's 'Crossing the Bar'. As I read it, I remembered the twinkle in Mom's eye and her smile. I called sis back and told her who and where. It's a great poem and very special to us. Hugh C.