52
POEMS.
THE ORPHAN'S PRAYER.
The frozen streets in moonshine glitter,
The midnight hour has long been past!
Oh! God! the wind blows keen and bitter,
I sink beneath the piercing blast.
In every vein life seems to languish,
Their weight my limbs no more can bear:
But no one soothes the Orphan's anguish,
And no one heeds the Orphan's prayer.
The midnight hour has long been past!
Oh! God! the wind blows keen and bitter,
I sink beneath the piercing blast.
In every vein life seems to languish,
Their weight my limbs no more can bear:
But no one soothes the Orphan's anguish,
And no one heeds the Orphan's prayer.
