 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
92
THE ORPHAN.
My father and mother are dead,
Nor friend, nor relation I know;
And now the cold earth is their bed,
And daisies will over them grow.
Nor friend, nor relation I know;
And now the cold earth is their bed,
And daisies will over them grow.
I cast my eyes into the tomb,
The sight made me bitterly cry;
I said, “And is this the dark room,
Where my father and mother must lie?”
The sight made me bitterly cry;
I said, “And is this the dark room,
Where my father and mother must lie?”
I cast my eyes round me again,
In hopes some protector to see;
Alas! but the search was in vain,
For none had compassion on me.
In hopes some protector to see;
Alas! but the search was in vain,
For none had compassion on me.
I cast my eyes up to the sky,
I groaned, though I said not a word;
Yet God was not deaf to my cry,
The Friend of the fatherless heard.
I groaned, though I said not a word;
Yet God was not deaf to my cry,
The Friend of the fatherless heard.
For since I have trusted his care,
And learned on his word to depend,
He has kept me from every snare,
And been my best Father and Friend.
And learned on his word to depend,
He has kept me from every snare,
And been my best Father and Friend.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |