1 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.

2 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 hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.