When we were out in BC to visit her, Mom F gave me a scribbler of favorite poems to type out for her. Here’s another of them; I recall her reciting bits of it different times and I’ve come to love it, too.
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 deep for sound or 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 though from out our bourne of time and place
The flood may bear me far,
I long to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.