MY PADDLE GLEAMED.
MY paddle gleamed, the light canoe
The river’s waters glided through
With scarce a sound to fret the air;
The sun shone bright, the morn was fair
And from the South soft breezes blew.
O’erhead the swallows darting flew,
Then dropt to earth to brush the dew
From off the tangled grasses there
My paddle gleamed!
In form as perfect, fresh and new
As when they first in Eden grew
God’s gifts, before, lay everywhere;
Behind, the city’s toil and care;
Content, I joy’s full measure knew—
My paddle gleamed!