This was originally a poem by John Mansfield, England's poet-laureate. I was first introdueed to his poetry by a rook on the Alice Wentworth whose only saving grace was his taste in sea-poetry.
When I was a little lad
With folly on my lips,
Fain was I for journeying
All the seas and ships.
But I'm weary of the sea-wind,
I'm weary of the foam,
And the Little Stars of Duna
Call me home.
When I was a young man
Before my beard was grey,
All to seas and islands
I gave my heart away.
But now across the southern swell
Every dawn I hear
The little streams of Duna
Running Clear.