The Bedroom

The Bathroom

Sea Fever  
John Masefield

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.  

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