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 sea-gulls 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.
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; – on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch’d land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
The tide has ebbed away:
No more wild dashings 'gainst the adamant rocks,
Nor swayings amidst sea-weed false that mocks
The hues of gardens gay:
No laugh of little wavelets at their play:
No lucid pools reflecting heaven's clear brow--
Both storm and calm alike are ended now.
The rocks sit gray and lone:
The shifting sand is spread so smooth and dry,
That not a tide might ever have swept by
Stirring it with rude moan:
Only some weedy fragments idly thrown
To rot beneath the sky, tell what has been:
But Desolation's self has grown serene.
It is a wonder foam is so beautiful.
A wave bursts in anger on a rock, broken up
in a wild white sibilant spray
and falls back, drawing in its breath with rage,
with frustration how beautiful!
Foaming waves on raging seas
Natures Gales from initial breeze
Battering coastlines, shifting sand
Re-aligning the changing land
Blowing dunes and pounding rocks
And everything that it unlocks
Whilst marine life waits out of sight
Staying clear of natures might
An atmosphere with a violent flair
No time to breathe in the swirling air
A distant calm some way off shore
We sit in silence and hear it's roar
The turquoise ocean, tipped with cold white foam,
Plashes, dashes, splashes, crashes
Against the unrelenting wall.
Ruffled ed and maddened by the teasing breeze,
It tries to leap above the hard gray wall,
Tries to wear away the inexorable wall
With the crash of thunder.
Yet, like booming guns from a battlefield
A thousand miles away, only paces away,
The roar of the sea can no longer be heard
Over the whistling breeze.
Surely for hundreds of years, the angry foam-splashed sea
Shall continue to pummel the unrelenting wall,
The inexorable, cold, gray, unrelenting wall,
Until at last the years shall take their toll,
And the long-lasting, steadfast wall shall crumble
Into the rejoicing, onward-surging sea.
I am strong. I am blue.
I am the sea. Better than you.
Cliffs grow weak where I charge.
Rocks break down, small and large.
My waves are rippling with lots of energy,
That’s continuously transferred within me.
The wind helps me gain awesome power,
So that I may construct but also devour.
And then on windy and stormy nights and days,
Come, with long fetches, my destructive waves.
I use attrition. I am cunning.
I carry rocks; they start fighting.
They clash and rub against one another.
They get smaller and smaller; smoother and rounder.
A long time afterwards, they turn into pebbles
And then you’re just left with sandy crumbles.
Down on the shore, on the sunny shore!
Where the salt smell cheers the land;
Where the tide moves bright under boundless light,
And the surge on the glittering strand;
Where the children wade in the shallow pools,
Or run from the froth in play;
Where the swift little boats with milk-white wings
Are crossing the sapphire bay,
And the ship in full sail, with a fortunate gale,
Holds proudy on her way;
Where the nets are spread on the grass to dry,
And asleep, hard by, the fishermen lie,
Under the tent of the warm blue sky,
With the hushing wave on its golden floor
To sing their lullaby.
Down on the shore, on the stormy shore!
Beset by a growling sea,
Whose mad waves leap on the rocky steep
Like wolves up a traveller's tree;
Where the foam flies wide, and an angry blast
Blows the curlew off, with a screech;
Where the brown sea-wrack, torn up by the roots,
Is flung out of fishes' reach;
And the tall ship rolls on the hidden shoals,
And scatters her planks on the beach;
Where slate and straw through the village spin,
And a cottage fronts the fiercest din
With a sailor's wife sitting sad within,
Hearkening the wind and the water's roar,
Till at last her tears begin.
Sometime at eve when the tide is low,
I shall slip my moorings and sail away,
With no response to a friendly hail,
In the silent hush of the twilight pale,
When the night stoops down to embrace the day
And the voices call in the water's flow.
Sometime at eve when the tide is low,
I shall slip my moorings and sail away.
Through purple shadows that darkly trail
O'er the ebbing tide of the unknown sea,
And a ripple of waters to tell the tale
Of a lonely voyager, sailing away
To mystic isles, where at anchor lay
The craft of those who had sailed before
O'er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.
A few who have watched me sail away
Will miss my craft from the busy bay;
Some friendly barques were anchored near,
Some loving souls that my heart held dear
In silent sorrow will drop a tear;
But I shall have peacefully furled my sail
In mooring sheltered from the storm and gale,
And greeted friends who had sailed before
O'er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.
Tufts of white and grey
shape-shift throughout the day.
Rabbit, turtle, now a deer
then dissipate into the sphere.
Float across the deep blue sky
graceful motion, flying high.
Wisps detach to freely roam
wide blue expanse calling home.
Thickest billows bunch together
a warning sign of change in weather.
In come the darkest of them all
full, with heavenly drops to fall.
Drifting by without a sound
casting shadows on the ground.
Oh Sea, why do you deliberately pound the rocks along the bay,
Sending showers of white foam up, in a cascade of spray,
Can you not cease your travels, churning incessantly,
Surging back and forth, always longing to be free.
Oh Sea, why do you keep hold of such impatience, in your hands,
Forever turning restless, racing for the sands,
Then teetering up the shingle, and rushing back again,
Shifting shells and pebbles, and layers of sandy grain.
Oh Sea, why draw it all towards you, like some almighty tongue,
Devouring it in mouthfuls, then spewing it among
The coves, caves and crevices, which are found along the cliffs,
Dispersing all the creatures, living in the rifts.
Oh Sea, you are gigantic, so powerful and so wild,
And yet at times you're gentle, just like a little child,
You command our admiration, your vastness is immense,
But you are so unpredictable, your energy intense.
Oh Sea, you are the great expanse, of the oceans of the world,
We treat you with respect, when your anger is unfurled,
Your boundless depths are fathomless, holding secrets still,
Your waters are so mecurial, subject to your will.
Oh Sea, It is a pleasure when your tides flow, to and fro,
To sit and watch the sunsets, over waters all aglow,
To know your restless feelings, to accept your endless task,
And yet to try and understand, what you keep behind your mask
Oh Sea, who owns the tranquil blues and greens, and violets too,
That in your watery world to us, gives such a wondrous view,
We know your unleashed mighty force, the course you have to take,
The storms, the squalls, the hurricanes, these terrors make us quake.
Oh Sea, we know of other words like tranquil, calm and still,
Times when you are peaceful, with no need to thrill,
Contrasts are your constant plan, your order of the day,
And admiring you, we would not have you, any other way.
The golden sea its mirror spreads
Beneath the golden skies,
And but a narrow strip between
Of earth and shadow lies.
The cloud-like cliffs, the cliff-like clouds,
Dissolved in glory, float,
And midway of the radiant floods
Hangs silently the boat.
The sea is but another sky,
The sky a sea as well,
And which is earth and which the heavens
The eye can scarcely tell.
So when for me life's latest hour
Soft passes to its end,
May glory, born of earth and heaven,
The earth and heaven blend.
Flooded with light the spirits float,
With silent rapture glow,
Till where earth ends and heaven begins
The soul shall scarcely know.
Stop digging for gold, it lies in the sky,
So turn around, build your wings and fly.
High, high, oh so high, into the expanse of the never-ending sky.
For therein lie the gold and the sparkle of diamonds in your eye.
There is a light that stands before me.
I just look up and I start to smile.
The breeze is looking so fine to me.
Golden sky will you ever dim?
Why would you?
Golden Sky shine on
Looking up it glows
with my hair it blows
Golden Sky shines forever
Golden sky will you ever dim?
Why would you?
Shine on and on.
Looking in to the sky I see myself T
he clouds dangling through the rays
Golden Sky shine on.
As the day ends to rest
The sunset does its best
Setting on fire the lively waves
Colouring orange the nature he saves
its pure ancient glorious perfection.
The great ocean will receive
The burning sun who's going to leave.
Slowly comes the night
Devouring that magic light:
we are still suspended in a great delight.
Just before the sun starts to set, a gentle golden glow
Spreads across the weary world, way down below.
The sun has the Midas touch; a touch of pure gold,
But it’s not long until the world starts to fall cold.
The sky is streaked with shades of pinks and reds,
Signalling that, tomorrow, there’s a fine day ahead.
In the late noon sky, there’s a spectacular show;
A myriad of colours, before the daylight goes.
The colours that are seen, all have a warm hue:
They look so amazing against the sky so blue.
It’s when people, from their tasks, pack away,
And has always been my favourite time of day.
where clear blue sky meets water's deep
his sunbeams reach her waves to tease,
to warm her currents, foaming spray;
dawn to dusk when daylight fades,
till only afterglow remains,
an interlude of celestial stage.
he speaks to her on written sky
and in the mournful sea-bird's cry,
wraps sultry ribbons in her tresses,
his fingers linger in caresses,
and in soothing choreography
he gently stirs her ocean's breeze.
Above the ocean where the fishes swim
The orange light of the setting sun dims
The red skies mesmerises you at your whim
Imagine a nocturne before sleep
A sign that sunlight is at its tip
The end of this wonderful evening trip
I saw the long line of the vacant shore,
The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand,
And the brown rocks left bare on every hand,
As if the ebbing tide would flow no more.
Then heard I, more distinctly than before,
The ocean breathe and its great breast expand,
And hurrying came on the defenceless land
The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar.
All thought and feeling and desire, I said,
Love, laughter, and the exultant joy of song
Have ebbed from me forever! Suddenly o’er me
They swept again from their deep ocean bed,
And in a tumult of delight, and strong
As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me.
When the sun sets over the long blue wave
I spring from my couch of rest,
And I hurtle and boom over leagues of foam
That toss in the weltering west,
I pipe a hymn to the headlands high,
My comrades forevermore,
And I chase the tricksy curls of foam
O'er the glimmering sandy shore.
The moon is my friend on clear, white nights
When I ripple her silver way,
And whistle blithely about the rocks
Like an elfin thing at play;
But anon I ravin with cloud and mist
And wail 'neath a curdled sky,
When the reef snarls yon like a questing beast,
And the frightened ships go by.
I scatter the dawn across the sea
Like wine of amber flung
From a crystal goblet all far and fine
Where the morning star is hung;
I blow from east and I blow from west
Wherever my longing be-
The wind of the land is a hindered thing
But the ocean wind is free!
Light is muted
without suns glare, shading and shadowed
brings out a pastel hue.
I walk the path
dodging those water-filled
craters of puddles.
Sky with purple tones
precedes the darkness,
cooling down
before the fall
of night
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 sea-gulls 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.
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; – on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch’d land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
The tide has ebbed away:
No more wild dashings 'gainst the adamant rocks,
Nor swayings amidst sea-weed false that mocks
The hues of gardens gay:
No laugh of little wavelets at their play:
No lucid pools reflecting heaven's clear brow--
Both storm and calm alike are ended now.
The rocks sit gray and lone:
The shifting sand is spread so smooth and dry,
That not a tide might ever have swept by
Stirring it with rude moan:
Only some weedy fragments idly thrown
To rot beneath the sky, tell what has been:
But Desolation's self has grown serene.
It is a wonder foam is so beautiful.
A wave bursts in anger on a rock, broken up
in a wild white sibilant spray
and falls back, drawing in its breath with rage,
with frustration how beautiful!
Foaming waves on raging seas
Natures Gales from initial breeze
Battering coastlines, shifting sand
Re-aligning the changing land
Blowing dunes and pounding rocks
And everything that it unlocks
Whilst marine life waits out of sight
Staying clear of natures might
An atmosphere with a violent flair
No time to breathe in the swirling air
A distant calm some way off shore
We sit in silence and hear it's roar
The turquoise ocean, tipped with cold white foam,
Plashes, dashes, splashes, crashes
Against the unrelenting wall.
Ruffled ed and maddened by the teasing breeze,
It tries to leap above the hard gray wall,
Tries to wear away the inexorable wall
With the crash of thunder.
Yet, like booming guns from a battlefield
A thousand miles away, only paces away,
The roar of the sea can no longer be heard
Over the whistling breeze.
Surely for hundreds of years, the angry foam-splashed sea
Shall continue to pummel the unrelenting wall,
The inexorable, cold, gray, unrelenting wall,
Until at last the years shall take their toll,
And the long-lasting, steadfast wall shall crumble
Into the rejoicing, onward-surging sea.
I am strong. I am blue.
I am the sea. Better than you.
Cliffs grow weak where I charge.
Rocks break down, small and large.
My waves are rippling with lots of energy,
That’s continuously transferred within me.
The wind helps me gain awesome power,
So that I may construct but also devour.
And then on windy and stormy nights and days,
Come, with long fetches, my destructive waves.
I use attrition. I am cunning.
I carry rocks; they start fighting.
They clash and rub against one another.
They get smaller and smaller; smoother and rounder.
A long time afterwards, they turn into pebbles
And then you’re just left with sandy crumbles.
Down on the shore, on the sunny shore!
Where the salt smell cheers the land;
Where the tide moves bright under boundless light,
And the surge on the glittering strand;
Where the children wade in the shallow pools,
Or run from the froth in play;
Where the swift little boats with milk-white wings
Are crossing the sapphire bay,
And the ship in full sail, with a fortunate gale,
Holds proudy on her way;
Where the nets are spread on the grass to dry,
And asleep, hard by, the fishermen lie,
Under the tent of the warm blue sky,
With the hushing wave on its golden floor
To sing their lullaby.
Down on the shore, on the stormy shore!
Beset by a growling sea,
Whose mad waves leap on the rocky steep
Like wolves up a traveller's tree;
Where the foam flies wide, and an angry blast
Blows the curlew off, with a screech;
Where the brown sea-wrack, torn up by the roots,
Is flung out of fishes' reach;
And the tall ship rolls on the hidden shoals,
And scatters her planks on the beach;
Where slate and straw through the village spin,
And a cottage fronts the fiercest din
With a sailor's wife sitting sad within,
Hearkening the wind and the water's roar,
Till at last her tears begin.
Sometime at eve when the tide is low,
I shall slip my moorings and sail away,
With no response to a friendly hail,
In the silent hush of the twilight pale,
When the night stoops down to embrace the day
And the voices call in the water's flow.
Sometime at eve when the tide is low,
I shall slip my moorings and sail away.
Through purple shadows that darkly trail
O'er the ebbing tide of the unknown sea,
And a ripple of waters to tell the tale
Of a lonely voyager, sailing away
To mystic isles, where at anchor lay
The craft of those who had sailed before
O'er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.
A few who have watched me sail away
Will miss my craft from the busy bay;
Some friendly barques were anchored near,
Some loving souls that my heart held dear
In silent sorrow will drop a tear;
But I shall have peacefully furled my sail
In mooring sheltered from the storm and gale,
And greeted friends who had sailed before
O'er the unknown sea to the unknown shore.
Tufts of white and grey
shape-shift throughout the day.
Rabbit, turtle, now a deer
then dissipate into the sphere.
Float across the deep blue sky
graceful motion, flying high.
Wisps detach to freely roam
wide blue expanse calling home.
Thickest billows bunch together
a warning sign of change in weather.
In come the darkest of them all
full, with heavenly drops to fall.
Drifting by without a sound
casting shadows on the ground.
Oh Sea, why do you deliberately pound the rocks along the bay,
Sending showers of white foam up, in a cascade of spray,
Can you not cease your travels, churning incessantly,
Surging back and forth, always longing to be free.
Oh Sea, why do you keep hold of such impatience, in your hands,
Forever turning restless, racing for the sands,
Then teetering up the shingle, and rushing back again,
Shifting shells and pebbles, and layers of sandy grain.
Oh Sea, why draw it all towards you, like some almighty tongue,
Devouring it in mouthfuls, then spewing it among
The coves, caves and crevices, which are found along the cliffs,
Dispersing all the creatures, living in the rifts.
Oh Sea, you are gigantic, so powerful and so wild,
And yet at times you're gentle, just like a little child,
You command our admiration, your vastness is immense,
But you are so unpredictable, your energy intense.
Oh Sea, you are the great expanse, of the oceans of the world,
We treat you with respect, when your anger is unfurled,
Your boundless depths are fathomless, holding secrets still,
Your waters are so mecurial, subject to your will.
Oh Sea, It is a pleasure when your tides flow, to and fro,
To sit and watch the sunsets, over waters all aglow,
To know your restless feelings, to accept your endless task,
And yet to try and understand, what you keep behind your mask
Oh Sea, who owns the tranquil blues and greens, and violets too,
That in your watery world to us, gives such a wondrous view,
We know your unleashed mighty force, the course you have to take,
The storms, the squalls, the hurricanes, these terrors make us quake.
Oh Sea, we know of other words like tranquil, calm and still,
Times when you are peaceful, with no need to thrill,
Contrasts are your constant plan, your order of the day,
And admiring you, we would not have you, any other way.
The golden sea its mirror spreads
Beneath the golden skies,
And but a narrow strip between
Of earth and shadow lies.
The cloud-like cliffs, the cliff-like clouds,
Dissolved in glory, float,
And midway of the radiant floods
Hangs silently the boat.
The sea is but another sky,
The sky a sea as well,
And which is earth and which the heavens
The eye can scarcely tell.
So when for me life's latest hour
Soft passes to its end,
May glory, born of earth and heaven,
The earth and heaven blend.
Flooded with light the spirits float,
With silent rapture glow,
Till where earth ends and heaven begins
The soul shall scarcely know.
Stop digging for gold, it lies in the sky,
So turn around, build your wings and fly.
High, high, oh so high, into the expanse of the never-ending sky.
For therein lie the gold and the sparkle of diamonds in your eye.
There is a light that stands before me.
I just look up and I start to smile.
The breeze is looking so fine to me.
Golden sky will you ever dim?
Why would you?
Golden Sky shine on
Looking up it glows
with my hair it blows
Golden Sky shines forever
Golden sky will you ever dim?
Why would you?
Shine on and on.
Looking in to the sky I see myself T
he clouds dangling through the rays
Golden Sky shine on.
As the day ends to rest
The sunset does its best
Setting on fire the lively waves
Colouring orange the nature he saves
its pure ancient glorious perfection.
The great ocean will receive
The burning sun who's going to leave.
Slowly comes the night
Devouring that magic light:
we are still suspended in a great delight.
Just before the sun starts to set, a gentle golden glow
Spreads across the weary world, way down below.
The sun has the Midas touch; a touch of pure gold,
But it’s not long until the world starts to fall cold.
The sky is streaked with shades of pinks and reds,
Signalling that, tomorrow, there’s a fine day ahead.
In the late noon sky, there’s a spectacular show;
A myriad of colours, before the daylight goes.
The colours that are seen, all have a warm hue:
They look so amazing against the sky so blue.
It’s when people, from their tasks, pack away,
And has always been my favourite time of day.
where clear blue sky meets water's deep
his sunbeams reach her waves to tease,
to warm her currents, foaming spray;
dawn to dusk when daylight fades,
till only afterglow remains,
an interlude of celestial stage.
he speaks to her on written sky
and in the mournful sea-bird's cry,
wraps sultry ribbons in her tresses,
his fingers linger in caresses,
and in soothing choreography
he gently stirs her ocean's breeze.
Above the ocean where the fishes swim
The orange light of the setting sun dims
The red skies mesmerises you at your whim
Imagine a nocturne before sleep
A sign that sunlight is at its tip
The end of this wonderful evening trip
I saw the long line of the vacant shore,
The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand,
And the brown rocks left bare on every hand,
As if the ebbing tide would flow no more.
Then heard I, more distinctly than before,
The ocean breathe and its great breast expand,
And hurrying came on the defenceless land
The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar.
All thought and feeling and desire, I said,
Love, laughter, and the exultant joy of song
Have ebbed from me forever! Suddenly o’er me
They swept again from their deep ocean bed,
And in a tumult of delight, and strong
As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me.
When the sun sets over the long blue wave
I spring from my couch of rest,
And I hurtle and boom over leagues of foam
That toss in the weltering west,
I pipe a hymn to the headlands high,
My comrades forevermore,
And I chase the tricksy curls of foam
O'er the glimmering sandy shore.
The moon is my friend on clear, white nights
When I ripple her silver way,
And whistle blithely about the rocks
Like an elfin thing at play;
But anon I ravin with cloud and mist
And wail 'neath a curdled sky,
When the reef snarls yon like a questing beast,
And the frightened ships go by.
I scatter the dawn across the sea
Like wine of amber flung
From a crystal goblet all far and fine
Where the morning star is hung;
I blow from east and I blow from west
Wherever my longing be-
The wind of the land is a hindered thing
But the ocean wind is free!
