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.

Sex ran in him like the sea

I must down to the sea again, for the call of the running tide / Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.

The American cemetery at Saint-Laurent-sur-Mer is a great lawn at the edge of the sea, white marble crosses and Stars of David against an open horizon. very American in the best sense: no phony piety, simple, easy.

Sea-fever

I must 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.

I must 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 down to the seas 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
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.