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All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.

John Masefield

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John Masefield
Age: 88 †
Born: 1878
Born: June 1
Died: 1967
Died: May 12
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
County of Herefordshire
John Edward Masefield
Tall
Nautical
Ships
Kirk
Boat
Yacht
Star
Steering
Sea
Voyages
Stars
Sailing
Asks
Sail
Ship
Mariners

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Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
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Commonplace people dislike tragedy because they dare not suffer and cannot exult.
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State are not made, nor patched they grow Grow slow through centuries of pain, And grow correctly in the main But only grow by certain laws, Of certain bits in certain jaws.
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All the great things of life are swiftly done, Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the sun We have to hurry at the touch of Fate.
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His face was filled with broken commandments.
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In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.
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I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.
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I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.
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Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.
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To most of us the future seems unsure. But then it always has been and we who have seen great changes must have great hopes.
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The three foundations of judgement: Bold Design, Constant Practice, and Frequent Mistakes.
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It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills, And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.
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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.
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Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
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Poetry is a mixture of common sense, which not all have, with an uncommon sense, which very few have.
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The Lord who gave us Earth and Heaven Takes that as thanks for all He's given. The book he lent is given back All blotted red and smutted black.
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So death obscures your gentle form, So memory strives to make the darkness bright And, in that heap of rocks, your body lies, Part of the island till the planet ends, My gentle comrade, beautiful and wise, Part of this crag this bitter surge offends, While I, who pass, a little obscure thing, War with this force, and breathe, and am its king.
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Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth
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O lovely lily clean, O lily springing green, O lily bursting white, Dear lily of delight, Spring in my heart agen That I may flower to men.
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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