In Memoriam: Professor Stephen Hawking

Hello everyone –

I had initially been planning to share some poetry about the REAL St. Patrick’s Day (tomorrow) and the arrival of springtime next Tuesday, March 20^th. However, Wednesday’s announcement of Professor Stephen Hawking’s death has inspired me to collect a garland of poems to honor him and his inspirational legacy to humankind.

“INVICTUS” (1875)

By William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

“Crossing the Bar” (1889)

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1807-1892)

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.

Tennyson remarked about this poem: “The Pilot has been on board all the while, but in the dark I have not seen him… [He is] that Divine and Unseen Who is always guiding us.”

“Bilbo's Last Song (At the Gray Havens)”

By J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973)

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 gray;

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 harbor-bar,

I'll find the havens 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!

Requiescat in pace, Professor. Ad astra per aspera!

Until next time –

Rob