I must go down to the seas again， to the lonely sea and the sky，

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer¹ 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；

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 go down to the seas again， to the vagrant² gypsy life，

To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted³ knife；

And all I ask is a merry yarn⁴ from a laughing fellow-rover，

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield， 1878-1967