Sea-Fever

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 seagulls 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

Don't let my fever return
Before your nimble yarns
Bedrooms weary
Drapes oft hanging
Leaving little lies
A heart in two
And two more as shoes
Let one and another sail the brails
Beneath her witched perfumes
Sea shanty see chanty
I worry not as diving
Nor rising moons sandy boom
Only the mid mornings spry