The Swallow

O Swallow! if I had your wings I would not stay below; I'd leave off catching flies and things And up to Heaven I'd go.

I'd sail above the tallest tree That waves its arms on high; Beyond the furthest cloud we see, And deeper than the sky.

Perhaps, when live birds find the way, They're all sent down again, And that is why you dive to-day For insects in the rain.