The luck will alter and the star will rise.

I must go down to the sea again For the call of the running tide It's a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.

Humans consist of body, mind and imagination. Our bodies are faulty, our minds untrustworthy, but our imagination has made us remarkable.

The days that make us happy make us wise

My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails.

Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.

And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.