Poems (Baldwyn)/A Sketch

by Augusta Baldwyn

For works with similar titles, see Sketch.

A SKETCH.

Quickly ply the muffl'd oar,
Hasten, hasten to the shore;
Behold the lassie of my love
Waves her veil from the rock above.
Haste to the shadow of yon hill;
Now lovely is the night! how still!
But hark! I hear Sir William's horn
So clearly by the south-wind borne;
Then quickly ply the muffl'd oar,
Hasten, hasten to the shore!

Descend, descend to the rocky beach,
Which I, my love, will soon, soon reach;
Descend in haste! oh, quickly fly!
The moon is rising in the sky;
Soon o'er the hills she'll smiling peep,
Her beams reflecting in the deep;
Then quickly hasten to the shore,
While we will ply the muffl'd oar!

Quickly ply the muffl'd oar!
Hasten, hasten to the shore!
Behold, Sir William rides in state,
On this dread moment hangs our fate!
Thine Edred calls thee! come, oh, come!
Hark! I hear the horn, the drum!
Now we've safely reach'd the shore,
But where is she I love, adore?

'She's here,' a gentle voice replies,
Low breath'd in softly murmur'd sighs;
'My Edred, we shall never part
He clasp'd her fondly to his heart,
Then in the bark, near to his side,
He plac'd his young and lovely bride;
Then quickly pli'd the muffl'd oar
And hasten'd from the lonely shore!

1841.