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.