The West Wind

O wild, wild wave, that’ll sway me now; When I am from the shore and follow the flow, Of the sun, half-lighted and measureless day; As the wild winds stand their clamor and bow.

And swathes, that will burn on the doors of the sea, Gather foliage of water and sky to play, To curl in my dream where the far-off sweet is: The smear of the dreams where our beings fade away.

When night will be over, I will sail to the stars; For the stars sat wide and beckon beneath— With the breeze, I will breathe the sheer delight Of the morning that comes, for it’s all but an oath!

• John Masefield