And one clear call from 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 crossed the bar.
