The Orphan.
OH, wearily, most wearily through life,
The orphan girl in bitter grief must go,
Uncheered amid the dark and restful strife
A cold world wages with the child of woe;
No parent's voice to soothe with sweet control
The burning tear-drops bursting from her soul.
The orphan girl in bitter grief must go,
Uncheered amid the dark and restful strife
A cold world wages with the child of woe;
No parent's voice to soothe with sweet control
The burning tear-drops bursting from her soul.
She's desolate on earth, and she must bear
The conflict of mortality alone;
Nor in her keenest anguish must she dare
To heave a sigh, or breathe one sorrowing moan;
For men may mock the sighs and groans that start
From the recesses of a breaking heart!
The conflict of mortality alone;
Nor in her keenest anguish must she dare
To heave a sigh, or breathe one sorrowing moan;
For men may mock the sighs and groans that start
From the recesses of a breaking heart!
