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Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver

By William Thom. Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by W. Skinner

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83

The bonniest half o' that Branch sank deid,
An' its wee, wee bud unseen;
The ither took root an' reared its heid,
Wi' its twa three Twigs alane.
Heaven, pitying, held the wild wind fast,
An' the Stricken Branch out-lived the blast;
The kindly Sunbeam settled there,
The branches braid'ning mair and mair;
And monie bonnie bird wi' willing wing,
Had welcome there to nestle and sing.