“The Skater’s Song” (from Woodworth’s Youth’s Cabinet, January 1849, p. 8)
Here we go,
Steady and slow,
Plodding awhile behind;
Faster we hie,
Till away we fly,
Swift as the northern wind.
Blithe and gay,
We speed our way,
Over the ice-bound river;
From side to side,
Like a bird we glide,
Or a dart from an Indian’s quiver.
Look out! look out
Mind what you’re about,
And skilfully guide your feet;
Take care! take care!
Or ere you’re aware,
Your head will be cracking the sleet.
There, down he goes—
I pity his woes,
For he falls like a bar of lead;
Now he can tell,
I ween, pretty well,
Whether ice is as hard as his head.
Ha! ha! you see
He’s as merry as we
And he’s up and off again.
Now for a race,
With a quicker pace,
Over the glassy plain.
Blithe and gay,
We speed our way,
Over the ice-bound river;
From side to side,
Like a bird we glide,
Or a dart from an Indian’s quiver.
Away we fly
And the wind outvie,
And our spirits keep time with the flight;
Thus the day
Glides away,
And sweetly blends with night.
Thanks we’ll give,
While we live,
That our hearts are free from sorrow;
And though we play
With such glee to-day,
We’ll study the better to-morrow.
From side to side,
Like a bird we glide,
Till the twilight time is o’er;
And when at last,
Our sport is past,
We’ll glide like a bird to the shore.
And now we go
Over the snow,
To our happy homes away,
Tripping along,
With mirth and song,
Till we come—to the end of our lay.