Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,

And East and West the wanderlust that will not let me be;

It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-by!

For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,

But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;

And there’s no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,

For the river calls and the road calls, and oh, the call of a bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day

The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;

And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,

You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!