Finding comfort in a nautical farewell: Funeral poems about boats and sailing

Losing someone dear is an indescribable pain and finding the right words to say goodbye can be met with mixed and challenging moments. Funeral poems can offer a way to help express your emotions and celebrate the life of those we have loved and lost. If your special person had a passion for boats and sailing, these touching poems we hope will provide the comfort you are looking for during this difficult time.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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

Sometime 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.

As you read these words of farewell and reflection, remember that they are more than verses on a page. They are a tribute to the love, memories and passion your loved one had for boats and or sailing. Furthermore, we hope these poems reflect the enduring spirit of their journey, and through them, you and your family can find solace in knowing that their love for the sea lives on in your heart.

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