I must go down to
the sea 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 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;
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 a quiet sleep
and a sweet dream when the long trip's over.
John Masefield