s I swing, as I swing, Here beneath my mother’s wing, Here beneath my mother’s arm, Never earthly thing can harm. Up and down, to and fro, With a steady sweep I go, Like a swallow on the wing, As I swing, as I swing. As I swing, as I swing, Honey-bee comes murmuring, Humming softly in my ear, “Come away with me, my dear! In the tiger-lily’s cup Sweetest honey we will sup.” Go away, you velvet thing! I must swing! I must swing! As I swing, as I swing, Butterfly comes fluttering, “Little child, now come away ’Mid the clover-blooms to play; Clover-blooms are red and white, Sky is blue and sun is bright. Why then thus, with folded wing, Sit and swing, sit and swing?” As I swing, as I swing, Oriole comes hovering. “See my nest in yonder tree! Little child, come work with me. Learn to make a perfect nest, That of all things is the best. Come! nor longer loitering Sit and swing, sit and swing!” As I swing, as I swing, Though I have not any wing, Still I would not change with you, Happiest bird that ever flew. Butterfly and honey-bee, Sure ’t is you must envy me, Safe beneath my mother’s wing As I swing, as I swing.