Orphan Poems

Table of Contents

1. The Orphan

   by Jane Taylor

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   My father and mother are dead,
   Nor friend, nor relation I know;
   And now the cold earth is their bed,
   And daisies will over them grow.
   

   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, though I said not a word;
   Yet GOD was not deaf to my cry,
   The Friend of the fatherless heard.
   

   For since I have trusted his care,
   And learn'd on his word to depend,
   He has kept me from every snare,
   And been my best Father and Friend.
   

2. The Orphan's Prayer

   by Lizzie F. Baldy

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   It was a dark and stormy night,
   An orphan kneeled to pray;
   Beside her mother's lonely grave,
   In churchyard dim and gray.
   

   "O! Father, unto thee I pray,
   That Thou wilt take me home;
   And let it be thy will, oh! God,
   To bid me to thee come.
   

   "I long to see thy blessed face,
   That land where all is bright,
   To see thy holy city, Lord,
   Where there shall be no night."
   

   That night a shining angel came,
   To churchyard dark and cold,
   And led her up through pearly gates,
   To heavenly streets of gold.
   

   Serenely clear the morning dawned,
   The storm had passed away;
   No living eyes beside that grave,
   Welcomed the King of Day.
   

3. The Unconscious Orphan

   by Hannah Flagg Gould

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   Mother, I have found a tear
   In your eye! How came it here?
   More are coming; now they chase
   One another down your face.
   How I feel your bosom heave!
   What does make you sob and grieve?
   Let me wipe your tears away,
   Or I cannot go to play.
   

   Why is father sleeping so?
   Put me down, and let me go—
   Let me go, where I can stand
   Near enough to reach his hand.
   Why! it feels as stiff and cold
   As a piece of ice, to hold!
   Lift me up to kiss his cheek;
   Then, perhaps, he'll wake and speak.
   

   Mother, oh! it isn't he,
   For he will not look at me!
   Father hadn't cheeks so white!
   See, the lips are fastened tight!
   Father always spoke and smiled,
   Calling me his 'darling child;'
   He would give and ask a kiss,
   When I came; but who is this?
   

   If 't is father, has he done
   Speaking to his little one?
   Will he never, never more
   Know and love me, as before?
   Could he hear what we have said?
   Tell me; what is being dead?
   O! he does'nt breathe a breath!
   Mother, what's the cause of death?
   

4. An Orphan

   by Annette Wynne

   Everything has sisters, brothers,
   Pussy willows, stars and others;
   Puppy dogs and kittens, too,
   Have "relations"—quite a few;
   But the moon that lives alone
   Has no family of her own,
   Has no sister and no brother,
   Has no aunt, and has no mother;
   And it lives up very high
   Like an orphan in the sky.
   

5. The Orphan

   by Martha G. Beck

   
   

   ►

   ▼

    Full Text

   An orphan to our home we took—
   A little brown-eyed dove;
   So winning- in her baby ways,
   We could not choose but love.
   

   A home with only sons—
   Unblest by sister's grace—
   What marvel they claimed her
   To fill the vacant place?
   

   Like a sunbeam to our home
   She came, our dull lives to bless—
   A humming bird amid the gloom
   That on leafless forest rest.
   

   Grown-up ones, though of life a part,
   Excites not the sympathy,
   That wells up in the parent heart,
   For weak, helpless infancy.
   

   Our lives had drifted on the same
   For many, many years:
   Our hearts, like an arid plain,
   Our eyes unused to tears.
   

   She soon awoke our love,
   For it was but asleep;
   Eyes not used to tears,
   Alas! soon learned to weep.
   

   Death has nipped our flow'ret,
   With all her winsome charms;
   For her angel mother came
   And took her from our arms.
   

   Ah! our home is lonely now
   Though we are nearing rest;
   To Our Father's will we bow,
   He governs for the best.
   

Related Poems