⁠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.