John Masefield

,Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir ,Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine ,With a cargo of ivory ,And apes and peacocks .Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine

Silent are the woods, and the dim green boughs are Hushed in the twilight: yonder, in the path through The apple orchard, is a tired plough-boy .Calling the cows home

,I must go down to the seas 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