What am I, Life? A thing of watery salt Held in cohesion by unresting cells, Which work they know not why, which… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Life's battle is a conquest for the strong; The meaning shows in the defeated thing. — John Masefield Copy Share Image
When Life knocks at the door no one can wait, When Death makes his arrest we have to go. — John Masefield Copy Share Image
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
In the dark room where I began My mother's life made me a man. Through all the months of human birth Her… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire, Love is a… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
It may be that we cease; we cannot tell. Even if we cease, life is a miracle. — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Man cannot call the brimming instant back; Time's an affair of instants spun to days; If man must make an instant gold,… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
All ye that pass by! While we least think it he prepares his Mate. Mate, and the King's pawn played, it never… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
To most of us the future seems unsure. But then it always has been; and we who have seen great changes must… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street, The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet, With a… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
All the great things of life are swiftly done, Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
What am I, Life? A thing of watery salt Held in cohesion by unresting cells, Which work they know not why, which never halt,… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Men in a ship are always looking up, and men ashore are usually looking down. — John Masefield Copy Share Image
I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain. — John Masefield Copy Share Image
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… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
“(...) It,s hard not to be able. There, look there!/ I cannot get the movement nor the light;/Sometimes it almost makes a man despair/To… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood,… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Life's battle is a conquest for the strong; The meaning shows in the defeated thing. — John Masefield Copy Share Image
Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man; it has become the… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
When the last sea is sailed and last shallow charted, When the last field is reaped and the last harvest stored, When the last… — John Masefield Copy Share Image
