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PIETY

OH liquid moon that silvers the rims
   Of the mountain heights,
Oh lotus-flower that floats and swims
   In the island nights.
Oh pale white arms that are stretched to me
   With a siren's song,
I answer the spell of your witchery;
   I come! I come!

Wait but awhile, oh white, white arms,
   Wait but awhile.
I feel your power and I want your charms;
   I need your guile.
Let me but plant one red, red rose
   On my true Love's tomb,
Then your tide shall bear me wherever it flows.
   I come! I come!