Have we run out of poetry, friends? I've been thinking about something to express my condolences to Max and lady on the loss of their grandmothers and today something in another thread (about sea changes) recalled this poem which was recited by the minister at the funeral of my maternal grandmother, who was one of the great influences of my life, and a devout Christian lady. So Max, this is for you, with sincere condolences:

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 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


This has been set to a beautiful tune and can be found in the Methodist Hymnal.