O Willow Tree

There be the willow tree
Swaying in the storm.
Lighting strikes up yonder;
Thunder cracks through core.
The Angels tears fall plenty;
Down upon thy brow.
Still the sternly willow
Digs deep into the ground.
O willow tree do you weep
over the tiny shivering bones;
To keep dry tender fingers;
To never lose a youthful soul.
In all seasons, wind and storm.
Till embrace of sun will look upon,
Thine will soon come into warmth
In the meadowlark's cheery song.

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