Sea Fever

I must 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 gray mist across the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking. 


I must down to the sea again, to the call of the running tide 

‘Tis 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 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 quiet sleep, and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. 


(A Poem by John Masefield)