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My father die, God rest his soul,
When years I numbered two,
And left me 'midst this world alone,
To paddle my own canoe. A step-grand-daddy, now no more,
Taught me my P's and Q.
And ever in my ears he dinned,
You'll paddle your own canoe. My home was no Elysian spot
Of bright and sunny hue,
And therefore I the sooner left,
To paddle my own canoe. And through the world I roamed at large,
O'er land and ocean blue;
And though the struggle oft was hard,
I paddled my own canoe. For thus I argued, man to man, Is often,times untrue; Then while with health and strength you're blest
Just paddle your own canoe. As partners in the strife for gain,
Self-interest will pursue;
And leave you with your debts, perhaps,
To paddle your own canoe. And then no sympathy you'll find
From friends who once were true;
They knew you lost when first you ceased
To paddle your own canoe. But I one cherished object sought
And ever kept in view;
A friend of pure unsullied heart,
'To paddle my own canoe. A friend she is in word and deed-
Her interest mine is too;
The twain are one - I still may say,
I paddle my own canoe.
-anon-
love many, trust few, learn to paddle your own canoe.
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bedevilledbijou's journal
