When I put out to sea

This is the last post for a while as we're travelling overseas for the whole of October. Tennyson's “Crossing the Bar” is really more about death than travel, but it's beautiful and I've been wanting to post it for a while.  

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 crost the bar.