Swinging On The Toll-gate - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
SWINGING ON THE TOLL-GATE. Copyright, 1890, by Frank Armstrong. Words by George M. Vickers. Music by Adam Geibel. 
In a neat little cot by the wayside, Daddy Wicket, the toll-taker lives, And each traveler who rides o'er the turnpike A mite to the toll-taker gives; He holds out his hand very gracefully, While a twinkle is seen in his eye, And he says a kind work to all comers. And he smiles as they swiftly glide by; And he says a kind word to all coiners, And he smiles as they swiftly glide by. 
Chorus. Swinging on the toll-gate, swinging to and fro, Happy, happy moments, long and long ago; Swinging on the toll-gate, swinging to and fro, Happy, happy childhood in the long ago. 
When the sun o'er the hill-top is peeping. When sweet is the flower-kissed air. When the day goes to rest in the gloaming. Still dear Daddy Wicket is there; He stands in the door of the toll-house, Or he sits on his three-legged chair, And his pride is to cure for a stranger, Yet is he quite a stranger to care; And his pride is to care for a stranger, Yet is he quite a stranger to care.-Chorus. 
Oh, then who can forget Daddy Wicket, Or the wonderful shake of his head? he who oft gives the homeless a shelter, Who oft hungry mortals has fed! Oh, may we, as through life we journey. Never meet with a less noble soul Than the friend and the joy of our childhood, Daddy Wicket, who gathers the toll; Than the friend and the joy of our childhood, Daddy Wicket, who gathers the toll.-Chorus.