Classic Poem

Swift through the darkness
The little boat goes;
What is before us,
Who cares, and who knows?

Low hang the branches
That border the stream;
Afloat in their shade,
Do we wake, do we dream?

Could our flight through the twilight
Continue for aye,
Should we care for the sunlight,
Or pine for the day?

Should I tire of the language
Of beautiful eyes,
And weary of melody
Written in sighs?

If life were but floating
By one dear one's side.
Should we long for the haven,
Or turn of the tide?

Still through the shadows
We grope to the sea:
The world is before us,
And I, love, choose Thee!