My feet they are sore and my limbs they are weary Long is the wind, the mountains are wideSoon will the twilight close moonless and dreary Over the path of the poor orphan childWhy did they send me so far and so lonely Up where the marsh sprays and grey rocks are piledMen are hard-hearted and kind angels only Watch o'er the steps of the poor orphan childYet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing Clouds there are none and storms being mildGod in his mercy protection is shown Comfort and hope to the poor orphan childEven should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing Or stray in the marshes by false light beguiledStill will my father with promise and blessing Take to his bosom the poor orphan childThere is a thought that for strength should avail me Though both for shelter and kindred disposedHeaven is our home and rest will not fail me God is a friend to the poor orphan child