And thus Robert C. Byrd kicked the proverbial bucket at 92, which could become problematic for votes in the Senate under the Obama administration. That old southerner who made good (a politician who can change his mind and acknowledge that he was wrong is a rare bird indeed) he was a lover & connoisseur of poetry. Here’s his favorite, in memoriam:
“Crossing the Bar”
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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.