Crossing the Bar

I found out today that my high school English teacher died of cancer.  I recall that Mrs. Sharpe was always fond of Tennyson, and this poem came to mind after I heard the news.  I remember reading it in her class.

"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 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.

— Alfred Lord Tennyson