Swinging! Swinging!
Up where the bees and the butterflies are,
Winging! Winging!
Their flights 'mong the blossoms that shine near and far.
Ringing, Ringing,
Song of the blue-bird and bobolink's call,
Singing, Singing,
Up in this beautiful world are they all!
Clinging, clinging,
In this green shadow, the clematis swings.
Bringing, bringing,
Hints of strange odors, and dim woodland things.
Flinging, flinging,
The snow-ball, its white, pretty blossoms on me,
Springing, springing,
The damask rose climbs to the lattice to see!
Backward my hair is floating and swaying,
Here o'er the garden-walk softly I sing;
Far more delightful, than wearily straying,
Is it to dream here, while gently I swing.
[Illustration: {CHILDREN AT THE BEACH.}]