The Black Berry’—wears a Thorn in his side’—
But no Man heard Him cry’—
He offers His Berry, just the same
To Partridge’—and to Boy’—
He sometimes holds upon the Fence’—
Or struggles to a Tree’—
Or clasps a Rock, with both His Hands’—
But not for Sympathy’—
We’—tell a Hurt’—to cool it’—
This Mourner’—to the Sky
A little further reaches’—instead’—
Brave Black Berry’—

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