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Hugh Miller

The Babie

Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes,

Nae stockings on her feet;

Her supple ankles white as snow,

Or early blossoms sweet.

Her simple dress of sprinkled pink

Her double, dimpled chin;

Her pucker'd lip and bonny mou',

With nae ane tooth between.

Her een sae like her mither's een,

Twa gentle, liquid things;

Her face is like an angel's face—

We're glad she has nae wings.