"Duna" by Marjorie Lowrey Christie Pickthall (1883-1922)
In Pickthall, Marjorie, The Drift of Pinions. Montreal: The University Magazine, 1913. p. 62.
[Page 62]
DUNA
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.
[Page 63]