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.

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.

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.

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 crossed the bar.

Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark.

I put down the oars and float endlessly as if to the eternal shore. Blue light of the moon shines on my sail. My boat is gliding to a secure haven. Only silent waves break against it. Deepest silence surrounds me and my soul builds a golden bridge to a star.

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

To sea, to sea! The calm is o’er; The wanton water leaps in sport,
And rattles down the pebbly shore; The dolphin wheels, the sea-cows snort,
And unseen Mermaids’ pearly song
Comes bubbling up, the weeds among. Fling broad the sail, dip deep the oar: To sea, to sea! the calm is o’er.To sea, to sea! our wide-wing’d bark Shall billowy cleave its sunny way,
And with its shadow, fleet and dark, Break the caved Tritons’ azure day,
Like mighty eagle soaring light
O’er antelopes on Alpine height. The anchor heaves, the ship swings free, The sails swell full. To sea, to sea!

My boat is moored by mist-veiled rivershore;
I'm grieved to see the setting sun no more.
On boundless plain clouds hang atop the tree;
In water clear the moon seems near to me.

When an ocean voyage is drawing to an end and the passengers are busily employed in their preparations for disembarking, the lookoutman's bell rings out with unusual frequency.

Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end.

In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words.

Is the time not come yet? Are there works still to do? Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests.

Who knows when the chains will be off, and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset, vanish into the night?