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, to full for soud and foam, when that which DREW from out the boundless deem 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’ 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