Quote

I must go down to the sea again For the call of the running tide It's a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.

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
Running
Tide
May
Sailing
Must
Tides
Denied
Wild
Sea
Call
Clear

More quotes by John Masefield

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His face was filled with broken commandments.
John Masefield
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Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
John Masefield
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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.
John Masefield
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Man with his burning soul Has but an hour of breath To build a ship of Truth In which his soul may sail- Sail on the sea of death. For death takes toll Of beauty, courage, youth, Of all but Truth.
John Masefield
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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.
John Masefield
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Man's body is faulty, his mind untrustworthy, but his imagination has made him remarkable.
John Masefield
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It ought to have gangsters, and aeroplanes and a lot of automatic pistols.
John Masefield
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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.
John Masefield
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Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
John Masefield
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God dropped a spark down into everyone, And if we find and fan it to a blaze, It'll spring up and glow, like--like the sun, And light the wandering out of stony ways.
John Masefield
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The distant soul can shake the distant friend's soul and make the longing felt, over untold miles.
John Masefield
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I hold that when a person dies / His soul returns again to earth / Arrayed in some new flesh disguise / Another mother gives him birth / With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.
John Masefield
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The corn that makes the holy bread By which the soul of man is fed, The holy bread, the food unpriced, Thy everlasting mercy, Christ.
John Masefield
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Man cannot call the brimming instant back Time's an affair of instants spun to days If man must make an instant gold, or black, Let him, he may but Time must go his ways. Life may be duller for an instant's blaze. Life's an affair of instants spun to years, Instants are only cause of all these tears.
John Masefield
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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.
John Masefield
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On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street, The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet, With a word here of the hills, and a song there of the sea And-the great movement changes-the pageant passes me.
John Masefield
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But he has gone, A nation's memory and veneration, Among the radiant, ever venturing on, Somewhere, with morning, as such spirits will.
John Masefield
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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.
John Masefield
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In the dark room where I began My mother's life made me a man. Through all the months of human birth Her beauty fed my common earth. I cannot see, nor breathe, nor stir, But through the death of some of her.
John Masefield
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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.
John Masefield