John Masefield


                   One road leads to London, 
                     One road leads to Wales, 
                   My road leads me seawards 
                     To the white dipping sails. 

                   One road leads to the river, 
                     And it goes singing slow; 
                   My road leads to shipping, 
                     Where the bronzed sailors go. 

                   Leads me, lures me, calls me 
                     To salt green tossing sea; 
                   A road without earth's road-dust 
                     Is the right road for me. 

                   A wet road heaving, shining, 
                     And wild with seagull's cries, 
                   A mad salt sea-wind blowing 
                     The salt spray in my eyes. 

                   My road calls me, lures me 
                     West, east, south, and north; 
                   Most roads lead men homewards, 
                     My road leads me forth. 
                   To add more miles to the tally 
                     Of grey miles left behind, 
                   In quest of that one beauty 
                     God put me here to find.


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