Burlington Free Press

From the Olive Branch.

THE OLD SWING.

I love it, I love it and who'll dare bring
Disgrace upon me for loving that swing?
I've treasured it long as a costly gem,
I've bedecked it with flowers again and again
'Tis bound by a thousand bands to the pole,
Not a knot will break, not a link unroll;
Would ye learn the spell? A fond brother's hand
Tied strongly the swing with that old kid band.

I've eat and swung in it many a day,
Till the rope grew thin, and the bands gave way;
And I laughed outright when I saw the rope
Come down to the floor when its knots were broke
Years then rolled by, but the rope hung still,
On a beam in the barn by the cider mill;
And I learned how much the old rope could bear,
When time and again they had patched it there

'Tis there! 'tis there! and I swing in it now,
With quivering breath and a laughing brow;
'Twas there I frolicked, 'twas there I played,
In my childhood's hours—but how soon they fade!
Yet I love it, I love it, and cannot bring
My soul from the thoughts of that old rope swing.