Crossing the Bar
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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 a 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.
Music
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
Let me go where’er I will
I hear a sky-born music still:
It sounds from all things old,
It sounds from all things young;
From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,
Peals out a cheerful song.
It is not only in the bird,
Not only where the rainbow glows,
Nor in the song of woman heard,
But in the darkest, meanest things
There always, always, something sings.
‘Tis not in the high stars alone,
Nor in the cups of budding flowers,
Nor in the redbreast’s mellow tone,
Nor in the bow that smiles in showers,
But in the mud and scum and things
There always, always, something sings.
