THE ORPHAN - Jane Taylor Poems


Poems » jane taylor » the orphan


MY father and mother are dead,
    No friend or relation I have :
And now the cold earth is their bed,
    And daisies grow over the grave.

I cast my eyes into the tomb,
    The sight made me bitterly cry ;
I said, and is this the dark room
    Where my father and mother must lie !

I cast my eyes round me again,
    In hopes some protector to see ;
Alas ! but the search was in vain,
    For none had compassion on me.

I cast my eyes up to the sky,
    I groan'd, tho' I said not a word ;
Yet God was not deaf to my cry,
    The friend of the fatherless heard.

O yes -- and he graciously smil'd,
    And bid me on him to depend ;
He whisper'd -- fear not, little child,
    For I am thy father and friend.