O Joturna, I call out to you; this perilous search can no longer endure! We desire the gods but none more than you Not for your beauty; nor the kindness of your grace I yearn for sweet relief of waters to which you shelter But I know that without your hand; your touch Relief is not to be Through the blessing you allow; I shall be reborn And indebted to the pool beneath your feet Shed your tears so that my own will not contribute Your well is burdened enough; as is your heart I shall bathe in the sorrow and become something more Know that our swords are weak without first blessed in your well Like the wings of your helm; your passion shall carry Take us deeper below; to the cool dark comfort Allow me to have a taste To become your champion, lovely Naiad Nymph of the fountains
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