Poem by Sarah
Orne Jewett
Oh, rest your oars and let
me drift
While all the stars come
out to see!
The birds are talking in
their sleep
As we go by so silently.
The idle winds are in the
pines;
The ripples touch against
the shore.
Oh, rest your oars and let
me drift,
And let me dream forevermore!
The sweet wild roses hear
and wake,
And send their fragrance
through the air;
The hills are hiding in the
dark,
There is no hurry anywhere.
The shadows close around
the boat,
Ah, why should we go back
to shore!
So rest your oars, and we
will float
Without a care forevermore.
Oh, little waves that plash
and call,
How fast you lead us out
of sight!
And we must follow where
you go
This strange and sweet midsummer
night;
The quiet river reaches far--
The darkness covers all the
shore;
With idle oars we downward
float
In starlight dim forevermore.
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