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...OVERLOOKING THE RIVER STOUR by THOMAS HARDY THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND [NOVEMBER 19, 1620] by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE NEW INN: A VISION OF BEAUTY by BEN JONSON THE LAST INVOCATION by WALT WHITMAN THE BRIDE'S TRAGEDY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE MATCH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |