Gracefulest of buoyant things,
Wanting but the snowy wings
Of your kin, the swan, to be
Queen of both the sky and sea;
Softly down the tranquil stream,
As through slumber glides a dream,
With the current let us go
Where the slim reeds, row on row,
Make sweet music all day long,
And the air is full of song.

Silent as the red man, who
Out of birch-bark fashioned you,
Steal along and come upon
Hosts of water-lilies wan
Suddenly, and bring surprise
To their wonder-waking eyes;
Then be off again once more,
Shadow-like, and haunt the shore,
Gathering from bending grass
Water secrets as you pass.

On and on and on we drift
Till the stars begin to sift
Through the twilight and, on high,
At her window in the sky
Comes the Night's pale bride to hark
For his message through the dark;
Till at last the silver sand
Reaches down and bids us land,
Then till dawn, farewell to you —
Sister of the swan — Canoe!