Once a Week (magazine)/Series 1/Volume 5/Swing song
SWING SONG.
As my little Johnny sat,
With the feathers in his hat
All a-blow,
On the wing,
All a-blow—
Through the shifting light and shade
By the birchen branches made,
To and fro
Swang the swing,
To and fro.
If your thought, my bonny lad,
For a penny may be had,
Let me know,
Out with it,
Let me know—
Darling boy, with dreaming eyes,
Looking so exceeding wise,
To and fro
As you flit,
To and fro.
Oh, Papa, I haven’t any
Thoughts at all, to earn a penny,
To and fro
As I fly,
To and fro.
If it wasn’t so absurd,
I do wish I was a bird,
And could go
Through the sky,
Like a crow.
What? So eager for a start,
Restless little truant-heart
To and fro
Yet awhile,
To and fro—
Yet awhile? Ay! old or young,
While on mortal pivot swung,
Joy and woe,
Tear and smile,
Come and go.
Quaint, small, human pendulum,
Lightly may they go and come!
Blessings, oh!
May they bring
And bestow;
While the clock-work of the spheres
Ticks away your chequered years—
To and fro
As you swing,
To and fro.