There is a scene where spirits blend, Where friend holds fellowship with friend; Though sundered far, by faith they meet Around one common mercy-seat. Oh! let my hand forget her skill, My tongue be silent, cold and still, This throbbing heart forget to beat, If I forget the mercy-seat.

Swinging 'Neath the Apple-Tree. (Pat's Pick, page 108.)

Key of C.

Oh, the sports of childhood! Roaming through the wild-wood, Running o'er the meadows, happy and free; But my heart's a beating For the old time greeting, Swinging 'neath the old apple tree. Chobus-

Swinging, swinging swinging, swinging, Lulling care to rest 'neath the old apple tree, Swinging, swinging, swinging, swinging, Swinging 'neath the old apple tree. Swaying in the sunbeams, Floating in the shadow, Sailing on the breezes, happy and free; Chasing all our sadness, Shouting in our gladness, Swinging 'neath the old apple tree.