I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
 And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
 And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
 And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.

 I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
 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 spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

 I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gipsy life,
 To the gull's way and the whale's way where the winds like a wetted knife;
 And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
 And quite sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

                                 John Masefield