Mellifluous, Um, Wednesday

"Sea Fever" by John Masefield

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 gray 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 sea-gulls 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 yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

I was in Baltimore all weekend at the NEXT conference (wonderful on all counts, by the way). Happily enough, we stayed only a few blocks away from Inner Harbor. So we got to eat there several times, enjoy sea air and seaweed smells, and wander around the docks at random hours of day and night. There's nothing like looking out to sea.