My feet they are sore and my limbs they are weary Long is the wind, the mountains are wide
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 marsh sprays and grey rocks are piled
Men are hard-hearted and kind angels only Watch o'er the steps of the poor orphan child
Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing Clouds there are none and storms being mild
God in his mercy protection is shown Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child
Even should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing Or stray in the marshes by false light 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 for shelter and kindred disposed
Heaven is our home and rest will not fail me God is a friend to the poor orphan child