Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put off 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 cros't the bar.
—Tennyson.
YE GOLDEN LAMPS OF HEAVEN.
Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell,
With all your feeble light;
Farewell, thou ever-changing Moon,
Pale empress of the Night.
And thou, refulgent Orb of Day,
In brighter flames arrayed;
My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere,
No more demands thine aid.
Ye stars are but the shining dust
Of my divine abode,
The pavement of those heavenly courts
Where I shall reign with God.
Father of eternal light
Shall there his beams display,
Nor shall one moment's darkness blend
With that unvaried day.
—Philip Doddridge.