Sea Fever By John Masefield 

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.