About twenty five years ago, I discovered that poetry was an excellent aid in the nightly task of getting my young daughter to sleep, so that I could finally join my wife for dinner. My tattered Norton Anthology, saved from a college survey course on poetry, proved a valuable resource, and I soon learned which poets and poems were more effective in this endeavor. Chief among them was Tennyson, and, notably, his “Crossing the Bar.” There was just something about its “sunset” and “evening star,” and its rhythm, that helped her sail off into her dreams. Over time, the thought…