  Ply the oars! away! away! In each dew-drop of the morning Lies the promise of a day. Rivers from the sunrise flow, Springing with the dewy morn; Voyageurs ’gainst time do row, Idle noon nor sunset know, Ever even with the dawn. . . . . . . Since that first ‘Away! away!’ Many a lengthy reach we’ve rowed, Still the sparrow on the spray Hastes to usher in the day With her simple-stanza’d ode. |
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