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I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky
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And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
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And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
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And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
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I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
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Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
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And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
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And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
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I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
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To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
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And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
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And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over. |
