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 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 crossed the bar.
No more tears. My sailor has crossed the bar. And I have a eulogy to write.
Jeff Benedict is a best-selling author and a columnist for SI.com. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. He is the author of "POISONED: The True Story of the Deadly E. Coli Outbreak That Changed the Way Americans Eat."
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