I must 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 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.
By John Masefield
(1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)