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 Rh TOOK the love you threw away When the moon was full; When in the river the full moon lay And the river-reeds were hushed in their play And gave their souls to the moon, And whispered and cried, "Ah, well-away! Today must turn into yesterday And the moon must wither and fade away,   The beautiful full moon!"

I took the love that you had scorned. Where it lay in that cold reed-bed. Took it when the morning dawned, Making the river red. "Behold, in spite of her bitter scorn, In spite of the blood spilt by the dawn,   That love is mine," I said.

And now when the moon is old And the sun, all burning gold. Scorches the city street; Now when the river is dried And the reeds have drooped and died, Your love is a fountain sweet;