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Crossing the Bar is a moving poem written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) in 1889. It is a meditative and hopeful poem that uses the metaphor of a sea voyage to describe the transition from life to death. Tennyson, who wrote the poem near the end of his life, portrays death not as something to fear but as a natural, inevitable, and quiet transition. He famously requested that this poem be placed at the end of all future collections of his work, serving as his own final farewell. The exhibition will consist of seascapes, coastal scenes, and marine paintings. It will include loans from other regional institutions.

Crossing 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.

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.

Crossing the Bar is a moving poem written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) in 1889. It is a meditative and hopeful poem that uses the metaphor of a sea voyage to describe the transition from life to death. Tennyson, who wrote the poem near the end of his life, portrays death not as something to fear but as a natural, inevitable, and quiet transition. He famously requested that this poem be placed at the end of all future collections of his work, serving as his own final farewell. The exhibition will consist of seascapes, coastal scenes, and marine paintings. It will include loans from other regional institutions.

Crossing 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.

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.