| I must go downward to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall transport and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kicking and the wind'due south song and the white sheet's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea'southward face, and a grayness dawn breaking. I must become down to the seas over again, for the phone call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a articulate call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy twenty-four hour period with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the diddled spume, and the bounding main-gulls crying. I must go downward to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull'due south manner and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing swain-rover
And tranquility sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick'due south 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 age of xiii, annoyed with John's "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 sea provided much fabric for the stories and poems he would later write, John soon tired of that harsh life and, on a voyage to New York, he jumped transport. For 2 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 as a pregnant literary talent. As his stature as a writer continued to abound, John became an internationally successful lecturer and was appointed as England's poet laureate, a position he held for virtually forty years. He actively wrote and published until he was 88 years old.
| | | jwylde:
By gamble, I came beyond the first ii lines of this poem and sort of recognized information technology. Then I realized that I had learned the "Mad Magazine"(rip)version of it and had never seen the original until now.
Posted 11/23/2021 07:56 PM packman:
I love this verse form. I had to recite it at a school show when I was in fifth form in Brooklyn'southward PS 225 in Brighton Beach. I would always get downward to the beach surface area to sit down on the rock jetties between the "trophy" This was the beginning of WW2 and I call up the oil slicks resulting on the beaches from the U boat attacks on the aircraft out of New York City.
Posted 05/28/2021 01:xx PM Arlngton6:
I learned this poem equally a pocket-size child in the 1950?due south. I went to parochial school and was so fortunate to be taught by nuns who valued poetry. My family unit loved the sea and my mother believed the sea was the cure for almost everything! My brother passed away equally a retired rear admiral in US Navy.
Posted 10/22/2020 10:25 AM deecob:
Takes me back over 60 years and reminds me of a wonderfully mad Welshman who taught me the appreciation of fine poetry, English hunting songs and the beauty of the English language. David C.
Posted 02/21/2020 09:53 PM tomcasson@yahoo.com:
My Mother used to chronicle this poem, when I was a child and information technology does bring dorsum those childhood 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 beautiful , and black stories he would tell me, giving his princess respect at all times. I love this poem, cheers Jayne for calculation information technology today !
Posted 02/24/2011 02:31 PM dotief@comcast.net:
When my married man was into sailing and we had sailboats, I always felt those commencement two lines almost 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 it in years and it's good to see how fine it is--abrupt images, rollicking rhythm, bright diction.
Posted 02/24/2011 08:02 AM | | | | 
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