Loom Blessing

Thrums nor odds of thread My hand never kept, nor shall keep, Every colour in the bow of the shower Has gone through my fingers beneath the cross, White and black, red and madder, Green, dark grey, and scarlet, Blue, and roan, and colour of the sheep, And never a particle of cloth was wanting. I beseech calm Bride the generous, I beseech mild Mary the loving, I beseech Christ Jesu the humane, That I may not die without them, That I may not die without them.