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1802–1864

Venetian Serenade.

George Pope Morris

Come, come to me, love! Come, love!— Arise And shame the bright stars With the light of thine eyes;

Look out from thy lattice — Oh, lady-bird, hear! A swan on the water — My gondola's near!

Come, come to me, love! Come, love!— My bride! O'er crystal in moonbeams We'll tranquilly glide:

In the dip of the oar A melody flows Sweet as the nightingale Sings to the rose.

Come, come to me, love! Come, love!— The day Brings warder and cloister! Away, then — away!

Oh, haste to thy lover! Not yon star above Is more true to heaven Then he to his love!

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Venetian Serenade. · George Pope Morris · Poetry Cove