You lived with us so steadily, 10 He lieth still: he doth not move: He will not see the dawn of day. He hath no other life above. 15 He gave me a friend, and a true true-love, Old year, you must not go; So long as you have been with us, He froth'd his bumpers to the brim; 25 Old year, you shall not die; He was full of joke and jest, » To see him die, across the waste Every one for his own. The night is starry and cold, my friend, And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend, Comes up to take his own. How hard he breathes! over the snow 40 The cricket chirps: the light burns low: 45 Shake hands, before you die. Old year, we'll dearly rue for you: His face is growing sharp and thin. Close up his eyes: tie up his chin: Step from the corpse, and let him in 50 That standeth there alone, And waiteth at the door. There's a new foot on the floor, my friend, CROSSING THE BAR. Crossing the Bar was contained in the volume of 1889, Demeter and Other Poems. For a singer of eighty years to strike so truly lyrical a note, to show himself as eminently a poet as in his prime, was not the least of Tennyson's achievements. The verses were sung at the poet's funeral in Westminster Abbey. The last poem he wrote, with music by Lady Tennyson, was also a part of the service. SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, 3. Moaning of the bar. A familiar line in Charles Kingsley's 10 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 though from out our bourne of time and place The flood may bear me far, 15 I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. poem, The Three Fishers, comes to mind, bar be moaning." "And the harbor |