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.
