I must away to the air again, to the lonely clouds and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the tiller’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a song of war on the breeze, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must away to the air again, for the call of the howling gale
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung rain and the blown hail, and the Storm-wolves crying.
I must away to the air again, to the vagrant raider life,
To the gull’s way and the hawk’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is the roar of battle and honours to win and strong enemies to face,
And then quiet sleep and a sweet dream in Griahk’kan’s embrace.