WHEN I was a little lad With folly on my lips, Fain was I for journeying All the seas in ships. But now across the southern swell, Every dawn I hear The little streams of Duna Running clear. When I was a young man, Before my beard was gray, All to ships and sailormen I gave my heart away. But I'm weary of the sea-wind, I'm weary of the foam, And the little stars of Duna Call me home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A CERTAIN CRITIC by AMY LOWELL ELEGY: 16. ON HIS MISTRESS by JOHN DONNE WATER FOWL by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH HAWTHORNE by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT THE GIRL'S LAMENTATION by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM SAINT MAY: A CITY LYRIC by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY THE ASSUMPTION by JOHN BEAUMONT |