The Call of the Sea

The sea is a stranger, singing to me; She calls in the morning at the flashing, waking sun; Her lullaby whispers when all may be still: When the men shake and gather that the night must come.

And I know not the wandering ships of my own, The scented sails and the winds flutter up and around; But a wave has caught me, and bides my desire As I walk by the wares of command unto the coast.

With the wild and roaring winds that are ever loud, There is a lonely storm that rides on the sands; Though sometimes the sun does hark me with grace, And the birds will scatter to give of their hands.

The light of the day must cascade in odd tokens; The sea must be fitting for waters abound; The night that is lonesome must have its strong words, When the stars speak my heart where the darkness resounds.

• John Masefield