Sea Fever

Sea Fever

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 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;

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

      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.