Sea Fever

By John Masefield

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 wheels 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 sea 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 sea 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 trips over.