While other children I behold,
   Sportive and gay in gambols wild,
I weep and sigh when I am told,
   "Poor girl, thou art an Orphan child."

No mother's kiss---no father's smile
   Has e'er my infant woes beguil'd;
They're dead, and I am left awhile
   To weep, a helpless Orphan child.

Why am I doom'd the storm to brave,
   From all a parent's love exiled?
I'd rather seek an early grave,
   Than live---a friendless Orphan child!

No hand my wanderings to reclaim,
   Mid scenes of infamy beguil'd---
How may I sink, o'erwhelm'd with shame,
   A lost, abandon'd Orphan child.

Yet stay---forbear my heart to break!
   On me one beam of joy has smil'd;
I've heard, that God will ne'er forsake
   The poor, deserted Orphan child.

Will he at whose Almighty voice,
   Creation rose from chaos wild,
With smiles of tenderness rejoice,
   The heart of a poor Orphan child?

O yes! he sweetly whispers peace,
   Soft are his words, his accents mild;
He bids me live,---he calls me his,---
   O happy, happy Orphan child!