Pick up your oar, sweet -

Pick up your oar, sweet -

   And row by me forthwith

Away from the huddled reeds;

   Away - away, my intrepid!

 

The canyon rim keeps us

   And also the foot of time

And sufficient tenderness

   To carry us on wave and whim.

What will we find further on?

   Jesus and the angels expect

What lies on the horizon

   So let's go there on account.