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XIII.

The moon is distant from the sea, And yet with amber hands She leads him, docile as a boy, Along appointed sands.

He never misses a degree; Obedient to her eye, He comes just so far toward the town, Just so far goes away.

Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand, And mine the distant sea, -- Obedient to the least command Thine eyes impose on me.