I Want To Be Lighting My Pipe On Deck, With My Baggage Safe Below, I Want To Be Free Of The Crowded Quay, While The Steamer'S Swinging Slow. I Want To Be Free Of Treachery, And Of Sordid Joys And Griefs, To Be Out Of Sight Of The Faces White, And The Waving Of Handkerchiefs. I Want To Be Making My Ship-Board Friends, I Want To Be Free Of The Past, I Want To Be Laughing With Kindred Souls, While The Heads Are Opening Fast. I Want To Be Sailing Far To-Day, On The Tracks Where The Rovers Go, To Feel The Heave Of The Deck, And Draw The Breath That The Rovers Know.