When Renie Rows

When Renie asks to take the oars

     To try her hand at rowing,

And boats are few, and calm is there

     Upon the river flowing,

I gladly hand them o’er to her,

     And turn unto the steering;

For when ‘tis calm, and Renie rows

     There’s much of joy appearing.

When Renie rows the light skiff makes

     A wake both wide and winding,

And I am closely occupied

     The tiller smartly minding.

We sheer to right and sheer to left,

     The grassy bank oft striking;

But Renie at the oars creates

     A picture to my liking.

The color flashes to her face,

     Her happy laughter ringing;

Her skirts around her ankles lie

     In sweet confusion clinging.

The short sleeves of her filmy waist

     Grow shorter with her rowing,

And two plump arms move back and forth

     The pink of health-glow showing.

Full soon she tires, the work is hard,

     She looks at me with pleading;

I leave the tiller to its fate,

     And let it sway unheeding.

One oar apiece! A gallant crew,

     We drift midst lilies growing;

When Renie rows I’m always glad

     To help her with the rowing.

June 30, 1903