Here are the Marion Zimmer Bradley verses mentioned above. Her text implies there are more, but this is all she included. The wind from the island brings songs of our sorrow The cry of the gulls and the sighing of streams; In all of my dreaming, I'm hearing the waters That flow from the hills in the land of our dreams. Blow westward, O sea-wind, and bring us some murmur Adrift from our homeland of honour and truth; In waking and sleeping, I'm hearing the waters That flow from the hills in the land of our youth. We sing in this far land the songs of our exile, The pipes and the harps are as fair as before; But never shall music run sweet as the waters That flow in that land we shall never see more.
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