Adrift

I’d love to sit in a canoe

         And drift and drift and drift,

Just only me and only you,

         Where waterlilies lift

Their yellow-throated cups, and white

         They show against the green

Of their huge leaves, and where the light

         Bathes all the sylvan scene.

I’d love to drift in a canoe

         With you beneath the moon,

Where waterlilies catch the dew,

         And, far away, the loon

Sends his weird cry through the still night,

         And where the forest tree

Spreads its wide boughs, through which the light

         Would sift on you and me.

You in the cushion-freighted bow,

         Me sitting at your feet;

To drift, and drift, and not allow

         One word to break the sweet,

The more than sweet championship

         That steeped our two souls through,

And hear the ripples softly lip

         Our birchen-bark canoe.

    Lilts O Love Table Of Contents