THE black sea parts to let us pass,
The harbor lights are gone;
A thousand nameless stars wheel up
Between the dusk and dawn.
We ’re outbound for England,
Our furrow flinging wide;
A thrusting wind is at our side,
And the long wave lifts us on.
My feet upon the forward deck
Have worn the very seams.
(And shall I know the Devon coast
When some red morning streams?)
All night my watches follow
The bells that break the dark —
(And will the Cornish cliffs stand stark
As they have stood in dreams?)
One star burns on above the mast
While twenty million roam.
A moorland wind will make at last
Across the bitter foam,
An old rack of headland
Come shouldering at the prow. . . .
I know they hear in Surrey now
My heart’s blood beating home!