"A Cherokee Love Song" by John Rollin Ridge
And let us seek the river's shore;
My light canoe awaits thee, love,
The sweetest burden e'er it bore!
The soft, low winds are whispering there
Of human beauty, human love,
And with approving faces, too,
The stars are shining from above.
Come place thy small white hand in mine,
My boat is 'neath those willow trees,
And with my practiced arm, the oar
Will ask no favor from the breeze.
Now, now we’re on waters, love,
Alone upon the murmuring tide—
Alone! but why should we regret,
If there were none on earth beside?
What matters it, if all were gone?
Thy bird-like voice could yet beguile,
And earth were heaven's substitute,
If thou were left to make it smile!
Oh, mark how soft the dipping oar,
That silent cleaves the yielding blue—
Oh list, the low, sweet melody
Of waves that beat our vessel too!
Oh, look to heaven, how pure it seems,
No cloud to dim, no blot, no stain,
And say—if we refuse to love,
Ought we to hope or smile again?
That island green, with roses gemmed,
Let's seek it, love—how sweet a spot?
Then let the hours of night speed on,
We live to love—it matters not!