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| I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and 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 sails shaking, And a gray mist on the seas 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 seagulls 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 |
| Sea Fever |