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John Masefield - A Valediction
Work rating: Low

	We`re bound for blue water where the great winds blow,
	It`s time to get the tacks aboard, time for us to go;
	The crowd`s at the capstan and the tune`s in the shout,
	"A long pull, a strong pull, and warp the hooker out."

	The bow-wash is eddying, spreading from the bows,
	Aloft and loose the topsails and some one give a rouse;
	A salt-Atlantic chanty shall be music to the dead,
	"A long pull, a strong pull, and the yard to the masthead."
	 
	Green and merry run the seas, the wind comes cold,
	Salt and strong and pleasant,  and worth a mint of gold;
	And she`s staggering, swooping, as she feels her feet,
	"A long pull, a strong pull, and aft the mainsheet!"
	 
	Shrilly squeal the running sheaves, the weather-gear strains,
	Such a clatter of chain-sheets, the devil`s in the chains;
	Over us the bright stars, under us the drowned,
	"A long pull, a strong pull, and we`re outward bound."

	Yonder, round and ruddy, is the mellow old moon,
	The red-funnelled tug has gone, and now, sonny, soon
	We`ll be clear of the Channel, so watch how you steer,
	"Ease her when she pitches, and so-long, my dear."

	 
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