IN the harbor, in the island, in the Spanish Seas, <br />Are the tiny white houses and the orange trees, <br />And day-long, night-long, the cool and pleasant breeze <br />Of the steady Trade Winds blowing. <br /> <br />There is the red wine, the nutty Spanish ale, <br />The shuffle of the dancers, the old salt's tale, <br />The squeaking fiddle, and the soughing in the sail <br />Of the steady Trade Winds blowing. <br /> <br />And o' nights there's fire-flies and the yellow moon, <br />And in the ghostly palm-trees the sleepy tune <br />Of the quiet voice calling me, the long low croon <br />Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.<br /><br />John Masefield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/trade-winds/
