Once a Week (magazine)/Series 1/Volume 1/On the water
ON THE WATER.
I.
On the water, on the water,
While the summer days were fair,
Whispering words in softest accents
Thro’ a veil of drooping hair;
While the little ear was peeping,
Half-ashamed and rosy red,
Blushing at the earnest meaning
Of the tender words I said—
II.
On the water, on the water,
Fairly shone the sunbeams then,
Dancing on the tiny ripples,
Lighting up the far-off glen;
None could hear us save the Iris,
Swaying in her golden pride,
And the lilies ever moving
With the motion of the tide.
III.
On the water, on the water,
While the twilight shades drew nigh,
Catching at the drooping branches,
As we floated idly by;
Oh! her small hand’s gentle pressure,
And her glance all words above,
And her soft cheek’s bright carnation,
When I told her all my love!
IV.
On the water, on the water,
Now I float, but all alone,
And I miss the silken ringlets,
And the little hand is gone;
Dies the sunset’s crimson beauty,
Comes the twilight as of yore,
All remind me of the dear one,
Lost to me for evermore.