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Roadways

One road leads to London,      One road leads to Wales,

My road leads me seawards    To the white dipping sails.

One road leads to the river,    As it goes singing slow;

My road leads to shipping,    Where the bronzed sailors go.

Leads me, lures me, calls me    To salt green tossing sea;

A road without earth's road-dust    Is the right road for me.

A wet road heaving, shining,    And wild with segulls' cries,

A mad salt sea-wind blowing    The salt spray in my eyes.

My road calls me, lures me    West, east, south, and north;

Most roads lead men homewards,    My road leads me forth To add more miles to the tally      Of grey miles left behind,

In quest of that one beauty      God put me here to find.

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John Masefield

John Edward Masefield OM (/ˈmeɪsˌfiːld, ˈmeɪz-/; 1 June 1878 – 12 May 1967) was an English poet and writer, and Poet Laureate from 1930 until 19…
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