Funerals can truly be augmented by a poem that is apt and fitting for the person you have just lost. The following list of funeral poems about boats and sailing are perfect for amateur and professional sailors, or simply someone who loved all things boat.
Bilbo’s Last Song
by J.R.R. Tolkien
Day is ended, dim my eyes,
but journey long before me lies.
Farewell, friends! I hear the call.
The ship’s beside the stony wall.
Foam is white and waves are grey;
beyond the sunset leads my way.
Foam is salt, the wind is free;
I hear the rising of the Sea.
Farewell, friends! The sails are set,
the wind is east, the moorings fret.
Shadows long before me lie,
beneath the ever-bending sky,
but islands lie behind the Sun
that I shall raise ere all is done;
lands there are to west of West,
where night is quiet and sleep is rest.
Guided by the Lonely Star,
beyond the utmost harbour-bar,
I’ll find the heavens fair and free,
and beaches of the Starlit Sea.
Ship, my ship! I seek the West,
and fields and mountains ever blest.
Farewell to Middle-earth at last.
I see the Star above my mast!
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 bourn 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.
Gone From My Sight
originally titled “What Is Dying?” by Rev. Luther F. Beecher
I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”
“Gone where?”
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side,
and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “There, she is gone!”
there are other eyes watching her coming,
and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”
And that is dying.
Psalm 23 – Sailor’s Edition
Author Unknown
The Lord is my pilot, I shall not drift.
He guides me across the dark waters.
He steers me through deep channels.
He keeps my log.
Yea, though I sail ‘mid the thunders
and tempest of life,
I shall dread no anger, for He is with me;
His love and His care, shelter me.
He prepares a quiet harbour before me.
He anoints the waves with oil
My ship rides calmly.
Surely sunlight and starlight
shall guide me on the voyage I take,
And I will rest in the heaven’s port forever.
Sailor’s Rest
by D.R. Block
When my sailing days are over,
And I sail the seas no more,
I shall build myself a refuge
By the ocean’s murmuring shore.
As I watch the foaming breakers
When the tide comes rushing in,
I will contemplate my lifetime
With its virtues and its sins.
Where the azure of the heavens
Meets the undulating blue,
Where the sweeping, soaring seagull
Flies its endless quest for food.
It is there that I would rest,
When my work on earth is done,
At the endless blue horizon
‘Neath the crimson, setting sun.
Sea Fever
by John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume and the seagulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life.
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like whetted knife:
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
Some Time At Eve
by Elizabeth Clark Hardy
Some time at eve when the tide is low,
I shall slip my mooring and sail away,
With no response to the friendly hail
Of kindred craft in the busy bay.
In the silent hush of the twilight pale,
When the night stoops down to embrace the day,
And the voices call in the waters’ flow-
Some time at eve when the tide is low,
I shall slip my mooring and sail away.
Through the purpling shadows that darkly trail
O’er the ebbing tide of the Unknown Sea,
I shall fare me away, with a dip of sail
And a ripple of waters to tell the tale
Of a lonely voyager, sailing away
To the Mystic Isles where at anchor lay
The crafts of those who have sailed before
O’er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.
A few who have watched me sail away
Will miss my craft from the busy bay;
Some friendly barks that were anchored near,
Some loving souls that my heart held dear,
In silent sorrow will drop a tear
But I shall have peacefully furled my sail
In mooring sheltered from storm and gale
And greet the friends who have sailed before
O’er the Unknown Sea to the Unknown Shore.
The Voyage
by Christie Moore
I am a sailor, you’re my first mate,
We signed on together, we coupled our fate,
Hauled up our anchor, determined not to fail,
For the hearts treasure, together we set sail.
With no maps to guide us we steered our own course,
Rode out the storms when the winds were gale force,
Sat out the doldrums in patience and hope:
Working together we learned how to cope.
Life is an ocean and love is a boat,
In troubled water that keeps us afloat,
When we started the voyage, there was just me and you –
Now gathered round us, we have our own crew.
Together we’re in this relationship,
We built it with care to last the whole trip,
Our true destination’s not marked on any charts;
We’re navigating to the shores of the heart.
Life is an ocean and love is a boat,
In troubled water that keeps us afloat,
When we started the voyage, there was just me and you –
Now gathered round us, we have our own crew.
When The Last Hand Comes Aboard
by Richard John Scarr
No more a watch to stand, Old Sailor.
For you are drifting on an ebbing tide.
Eight Bells has rung. Last dogwatch done.
Now a new berth awaits you on the other side.
Your ship is anchored in God’s Harbour.
And your ship mates, now of equal rank.
Are mustered on the deck to greet.
And Pipe as you ascend the Plank.
Her Boilers with full head of steam.
Cargo stowed and alley stored.
Just waiting to get underway.
When the last Hand comes aboard.
Look sharp! That Hand is you, Old Sailor.
And you’ll be sailing out on Heavenly Seas.
May the wind be ever at your back.
Fair weather, and God Speed!
To access our full list of funeral poems, click here.
All poems featured on this website are free to use during any ceremony, although it is good practice to make sure the author is mentioned, if known. Should you require a celebrant for your ceremony, be it a funeral, a wedding, a naming ceremony or something else, feel free to get in touch. I am a double award-nominated Family and Funeral Celebrant covering the entire UK, and would be happy to help you commemorate in a meaningful and personal way.
