When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
There’s been a phrase used frequently and widely over the last week, it is simple and beautiful and encapsulates what we are seeing in the collective emotion of these times.
‘Grief is the price we pay for love’
What is particularly striking in its use is that for there to be a collective grief, as shown by the second river winding through the capital city, there must also be a collective love – there is no grief without love. And so despite the sadness of the last week, that phrase becomes surprisingly upbeat, not only do we understand and want to show grief, but we must also know what love is – and for the people of this realm to show that collectively has to be the greatest legacy any monarch can leave behind.
We started adding a poem to our weekly newsletter at the beginning of the pandemic – it seemed to be a gentle and comforting thing to do in times which were alien and unsure. The articulation of the soul through poetry is not only a wonderful use of language to communicate a story, but also to show an emotion. We hope you like what we choose each week.
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 tho’ 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 crost the bar.
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