Thou lowly cot where first my breath I drew Past joys endear thee childhoods past delight Where each young summer pictures on my view And dearer still the happy winter night When the storm pelted down wi all his might And roard and bellowd in the chimney top And patterd vehement gainst the window light And o`er the threshold from the eaves did drop How blest Ive listened on my corner stool Heard the storm rage and hugged my happy spot While the fond parent wound her whirring spool And spard a sigh for the poor wanderers lot In thee sweet hut I all these joys did prove And these endear thee with eternal loveSourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
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