My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary; Long is the way, and the mountains are wild; Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary Over the path of the poor orphan child. Why did they send me so far and so lonely, Up where the moors spread and grey rocks are piled? Men are hard-hearted, and kind angels only Watch o'er the steps of a poor orphan child. Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing, Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mild, God, in His mercy, protection is showing, Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child. Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing, Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled, Still will my Father, with promise and blessing, Take to His bosom the poor orphan child. There is a thought that for strength should avail me, Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled; Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me; God is a friend to the poor orphan child.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SEA-SHORE GRAVE by SIDNEY LANIER ON A PALMETTO by SIDNEY LANIER STREET CRIES: 6. TO RICHARD WAGNER by SIDNEY LANIER THE MIDDLETON PLACE by AMY LOWELL NOTHING WILL CURE THE SICK LION BUT TO EAT AN APE' by MARIANNE MOORE A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN |