Happy Birthday, John
Today in Ledbury, England, in 1878 was born John Masefield.
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 grey mist on the sea's face and a grey 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 seagulls 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 [tale]1 from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
2 Comments:
Thanks for this...I had no idea! Also for the Whitman post...my blog has one as well. And apropos of your gosling pictures, I was in Greenbelt Wednesday and my son & I saw a mama Wood duck on the lake with seven ducklings! A beautiful sight.
I didn't know you posted about poetry -- I'll have to add a link from my blog. Cheers!
The old man said, "I mean to hang on
Till her canvas busts or her sticks are gone."
Which the blushing looney did, till at last
Overboard went her mizzen-mast.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
Arthur Ransome used that one as a chapter header. If anybody ever declares National Geopolitical Decision-Making Day, I nominate "Yarn of the Loch Achray" as the official poem.
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