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 :::THE TUNE

PLAYED a crazy tune To the river-weeds. I played it to the moon, And the sad dark reeds.

And the face that for so long Has vexed me hour by hour Like the rhyme of a lost song, Like the scent of a dead flower.

Drew near me; and the cold Lethean, lamentable Lilt of my love-song old, To give me her lips was able!

But I played a note too high Or I played a note too low — And the same moon looks down from the sky And the same waters flow.