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Sea Fever
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 gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray 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
sea-gulls 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 a 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.
John Masefield |
