And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that cannot be denied;
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the sea again to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
by John Masefield (1913)