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Post by Alan on Apr 15, 2008 16:25:48 GMT
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 gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray 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 (1902)
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Post by catpurrson on Jul 4, 2008 1:50:49 GMT
Sea Fever is a great choice, Alan. It's always been a favorite of mine. Here is another fine poem by John Masefield:
Tewkesbury Road IT is good to be out on the road, and going one knows not where, Going through meadow and village, one knows not whither or why; Through the grey light drift of the dust, in the keen cool rush of the air, Under the flying white clouds, and the broad blue lift of the sky.
And to halt at the chattering brook, in a tall green fern at the brink Where the harebell grows, and the gorse, and the foxgloves purple and white; Where the shifty-eyed delicate deer troop down to the brook to drink When the stars are mellow and large at the coming on of the night.
O, to feel the beat of the rain, and the homely smell of the earth, Is a tune for the blood to jig to, and joy past power of words; And the blessed green comely meadows are all a-ripple with mirth At the noise of the lambs at play and the dear wild cry of the birds.
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