Poems (Edwards)/The Orphan's Lament
THE ORPHAN'S LAMENT.
The world, for me, no longer wears A beauty or a bloom;Since all I loved and cherished most, Lies buried in the tomb.
I once was happy as a lark, But now those days are gone,And I am left an orphan child, All desolate and lone.
I do remember well the time, When I was glad and free,A little laughing merry child, Upon my father's knee.
When on my gentle mother's breast I laid my nestling head,And listened with attention deep, To all the words she said.
And when low kneeling at her feet, She taught me how to pray;I never thought such love as hers, Could ever pass away.
But she is gone—that mother dear, Gone to a world on high—Gone to a home, where tears no more, Can dim her cloudless eye.
I know she is an angel now, Among the saints in light;And when I lay my weary head Upon my bed at night,
I feel that she is near me still, Her orphan child to keep,To fan me with her spirit wing While silently I sleep.
I have no father—mother—friends; Alone I am on earth;A stranger in a stranger's land, Beside a stranger's hearth.
There's none to love and bless me here, Since my dear mother died;Oh, would that I were sleeping now, Thou loved one! by thy side.
But mother! when I go from hence I'll meet thee in the skies,Where parting never comes again, And love no longer dies.