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| In the lane at our house stood a sweet apple tree � Father made a rope swing for sister and me. Everyday the cows came to shade and to rest. On one of the branches, a bird built a nest. These things made me happy as a girl can be While swinging in the swing in the sweet apple tree. The water was to carry from the big cold spring, The chickens to feed, and the wood to bring; The dishes to wash when supper was done, And many, many more errands to run� But there was always time left for me To swing in the swing under the sweet apple tree. We gathered the apples for the big cider mill � The molasses were made by the barn on the hill. Sometimes we found nests of pretty white eggs, Or a little new calf on wobbly legs � But nothing was so much pleasure for me As swinging in the swing under the sweet apple tree. There was a little pond in the brook by the spring � We pulled little boats across with a string. We made playhouses in many different places; Sometimes we played games or ran long races � But nothing ever made me so happy, you see, As swinging in that swing under the old apple tree. Though many years have passed, I'm still glad For all the good times and pleasures I had When living on the farm on top of that hill. We did so many things that gave us a thrill � But no happiness ever came to me Like swinginging in the swing under the old apple tree. |
| The Sweet Apple Tree |
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