When Patience Pads

When pretty Patience pertly pad’s,

The world and all is one sweet song;

I am the happiest of lads

     In all this wildly, worldly throng.

She sits so stately and serene

     My heart with honest rapture glads;

No other picture on the screen

     Compares with Patience when she pad’s.

When Patience pad’s the passing shores

     Do not arrest my ardent gaze;

I do not hear the sound of oars,

     Or laughter from sequestered bays.

I know I’m there, and she is there,

     What else could thus command my view?

For other seasons I do not care

     When Patience paddles her canoe.

May 19, 1908