Life with a flatulent greyhound... - I Will Post More Poetry
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I Will Post More Poetry
John Masefield
Sea Fever
I MUST 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 gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.
I must 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 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.
Roadways
ONE road leads to London, One road leads to Wales, My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails.
One road leads to the river, And it goes singing slow; My road leads to shipping, Where the bronzed sailors go.
Leads me, lures me, calls me To salt green tossing sea; A road without earth's road-dust Is the right road for me.
A wet road heaving, shining, And wild with seagull's cries, A mad salt sea-wind blowing The salt spray in my eyes.
My road calls me, lures me West, east, south, and north; Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth.
To add more miles to the tally Of grey miles left behind, In quest of that one beauty God put me here to find.
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Sea Fever is one of my favorite poems. |
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