Riding on the cresting wave
Silver spiralling after day
Crimson tide receding
Sky to ocean slowly bleeding
Into the depths of the eve they come
Voices sparkling while dancing upon dying sun
Masters, yet servants, of an everlasting race
Beauty and mercy resting on their face
To those who dare to brave
The hazard of an icy salt grave
But if perchance they get a glimpse
Of the enchanting ocean nymphs
The sprits upon the azure tide
Shall aid in surviving the cresting ride.