Detroit, March, 1862. Through the air twixt earth and heaven
Autumn spreads her veil unseen,
And the sunlight falling through it,
Had a soft and tender sheen,
Floating gayly, floating idly,
In the golden sunset time,
Rocked we gently to the rhythm,
Of the water's perfect rhyme. Up the river with the sunlight
Laughing at us from each wave,
Drinking in the wealth of gladness,
That the hand of nature gave.
Up the river, floating idly,
In the sunset's golden glow;
On the west the clouds were crimson,
On the east as white as snow. Up the river where "Belle Island"
Parts the waters with its green;
Round and past its wave-locked beauty
There we glided down the stream.
Down the river, floating idly,
With the river and the sky
Both baptized in perfect beauty;
Colored both with richest dye. Down the river swept the steamer,
Down the westward swept the sun;
Of the faces then around me,
I remember now but one.
Floating gayly, floating idly,
I'm not certain but the skies
Looked to me a little brighter,
For the glance of other eyes. Down the river toward the steeples
And the noises of the town,
I'm not certain but I'd liked it
Just a little farther down.
Down the river, floating idly,
Gazing at the sunset's glow,
And with not a lesser pleasure,
Looking at a face I know. Down the river swept the steamer,
Down the westward swept the sun,
And before I hardly knew it
Had the grayer twilight come.
Floating gayly, floating idly,
I remember still the day;
And I wonder if the picture
From one mind has passed away.