THE ABC.

Swiss Air.[9]

The A, B, C,
Is pleasant to me,
I'm learning it all the day;
Whenever I look
In a printed book,
I See nothing but A, B, C.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C.
I See nothing but A, B, C.

I'm glad to know,
The fine little row,
Of letters both great and small,
The D, E, F, G,
The M, N, O, P,
And the X, Y, Z and all:
Sing A, B, C,
Sing R, S, T,
Sing X, Y, Z and all.

If I can fix
These marks twenty-six,
In this little careless head;
I'll read every book
As soon as I look
At the letters all over it spread.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
And the letters all over it spread.

I now will learn
Them all in turn,
The big letters and the small;
For how can I spell,
Or pronounce them well,
Till I shall have learned them all?
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
For I'm going to learn them all.

The bees and flies
Have nice little eyes,
But never can read like me;
They crawl in the book,
And they seem to look,
But they never know A, B, C;
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C,
They never know A, B, C.