tall ships

There are tall ships from far-off lands in the harbor, tall ships with white sails billowing and spilling light. In honor of those travelers, I present a favorite poem from my teen years, a poem which still thrills me.


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.

--- John Masefield