Over the bar

Crossing the bar (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 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.




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FcTyIaYLQqo&feature=PlayList&p=10A77F15B24E6F9F&index=13&playnext=2&playnext_from=PL

I spent my teenage years,
and later a full-grown man,
messing about in boats in Salcombe,
south Devon, the South Hams.

Where the river finally hits the sea,
there's a sand bar across the bay -
at low tide less than a human height.
Crossed it more times than I can say -

Hundreds, maybe more, in small boats,
with friends, brothers, or alone.
We went mackerel fishing in the evening sun
- one night came home with 60 or so -

Or was it 80?
And sold them round the park for 10p each.
With our father.

Years later we poured his ashes over the bar.