| I must go downwards to the seas again, to the lonely bounding main and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall send and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind'south vocal and the white sheet's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea'southward face, and a grayness dawn breaking. I must get 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 twenty-four hours with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must become down to the seas once again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's mode and the whale'due south way where the air current's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing swain-rover
And repose sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick'southward over. This poem is in the public domain.  John Masefield (1878-1967) was an English poet, author, and playwright. Both his parents died while he was a child, and at the historic period of thirteen, bellyaching with John'south "addiction" to reading, the aunt in accuse of caring for him sent him off to train for a life as a sailor. Although his experiences at ocean provided much cloth for the stories and poems he would subsequently write, John presently tired of that harsh life and, on a voyage to New York, he jumped transport. For two years, he worked at odd jobs in that metropolis, using his free time for reading and writing. He eventually returned to England, married, had two children, and established himself every bit a pregnant literary talent. As his stature equally a writer connected to grow, John became an internationally successful lecturer and was appointed as England's poet laureate, a position he held for nearly forty years. He actively wrote and published until he was 88 years old.
| | | jwylde:
By chance, I came across the beginning 2 lines of this poem and sort of recognized it. And so I realized that I had learned the "Mad Mag"(rip)version of it and had never seen the original until at present.
Posted xi/23/2021 07:56 PM packman:
I honey this poem. I had to recite information technology at a school show when I was in 5th form in Brooklyn'southward PS 225 in Brighton Beach. I would always get down to the beach area to sit on the rock jetties between the "bays" This was the beginning of WW2 and I remember the oil slicks resulting on the beaches from the U gunkhole attacks on the shipping out of New York City.
Posted 05/28/2021 01:xx PM Arlngton6:
I learned this poem as a modest child in the 1950?s. I went to parochial school and was and then fortunate to be taught past nuns who valued verse. My family unit loved the body of water and my female parent believed the ocean was the cure for almost everything! My brother passed away as a retired rear admiral in US Navy.
Posted ten/22/2020 10:25 AM deecob:
Takes me dorsum over 60 years and reminds me of a wonderfully mad Welshman who taught me the appreciation of fine poetry, English hunting songs and the dazzler of the English linguistic communication. David C.
Posted 02/21/2020 09:53 PM tomcasson@yahoo.com:
My Mother used to relate this poem, when I was a child and it does bring back those babyhood memories!!
Posted 07/25/2018 04:35 PM Michelle:
This reminds me of my dad. He was in the navy, and loved the sea, the sea always seemed to be his princess. The cute , and blackness stories he would tell me, giving his princess respect at all times. I love this verse form, give thanks you lot Jayne for adding it today !
Posted 02/24/2011 02:31 PM dotief@comcast.internet:
When my husband was into sailing and we had sailboats, I always felt those commencement two lines nearly a "tall ship and a star to steer her by..." Sheer magic!
Posted 02/24/2011 09:21 AM Buckner14:
Thanks for posting this . . . I hadn't revisited information technology in years and it'southward practiced to run into how fine it is--abrupt images, rollicking rhythm, vivid diction.
Posted 02/24/2011 08:02 AM | | | |