to the gypsy life...

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 grey mist on the sea's face,
and a grey 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.