Row gently here,
    My gondolier,
  So softly wake the tide,
    That not an ear, 
    On earth, may hear,
  But hers to whom we glide.
Had Heaven but tongues to speak, as well
  As starry eyes to see,
Oh, think what tales 'twould have to tell
  Of wand'ring youths like me!

    Now rest thee here,
    My gondolier,
  Hush, hush, for up I go,
    To climb yon light
    Balcony's height,
  While thou keep'st watch below.
Ah! did we take for Heaven above
  But half such pains as we
Take, day and night, for woman's love,
  What Angels we should be!