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.