In a Canoe

Starlight, and the silver lake
Clasp the skies—
And two nearer, dearer stars,
Your eyes!

Elfin voices seem to call
Through the night,
But your arms are warm, and they
Hold me tight.

Pallidly the moon slides down,
Hour by hour slips;
Ah, the deathless magic of
Your lips!

Dark the shadows as we creep
Past the shore—
Dear, that we might drift like this
Evermore!