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 gray rocks are piled
Men are hard hardhearted 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 stars they are mild
God in his mercy protection is showing
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 of shelter and kindred despond
Heaven is a home and rest will not fail me
God is a friend to the poor orphan child