Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again,

To the lonely sea and the sky,

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;

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;

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.