Poems and Songs :: :: University of Virginia Library

Oh, my clothing's thin, and the wind is cold;
I'm a way-worn wanderer, I'm poor and old;
And with trembling limbs, and with failing sight,
I trail through the city from morn till night.

II

Oh, I once had a home and a kind, good man,
And four brave sons, but they're dead and gone;
But now I'm worn to the bare, bare bone;
And I'm left to wander in the world alone.

III

Oh, the road it is dreary without a friend,
And I'm waiting weary for the coming end;
And I'm thankful the close of the journey's nigh;
For the poor and forlorn are content to die.

IV

As I painfully crawl through the heedless crowd,
Many pass me by that are hard and proud;
But the Queen of Heaven, with a holy ray,
Touches some kind hearts on my lonely way.

V

Oh, I sadly dream on the crowded street,
For I'm seeking for those I shall never meet;
And I listening lie, in the sleepless night,
For the voices that once were my heart's delight.

VI

Oh, the wide, wide world! it is lone and cold,
When our darlings are laid in the silent mould,
And the poor old wand'rer may pine for rest,
But the great, good God knows His own time best.

VII

And when I feel that I'm going to die,
I'll creep to the place where my own folks lie;
And I humbly hope to the Heavens above
That they'll lay me down with the friends I love.