The Orphan Girl
No home! No home! cried an orphan girl
At the door of a princely hall,
As she trembling stood on the marble steps
And leaned on the polished wall.
Her clothes were thin, her feet were bare.
Oh give me a home, she feebly cried
A home and a bit of bread
My father, alass! I never knew
And a tear dimmed her eye so bright.
My mother sleeps in a new made grave
All covered in snow and sleet.
The night was dark, the snow fell fast
The rich man shut his door.
His proud lip curled with scorn as he said:
No home, No bread for the poor.
I must freeze, she said as she sank on the steps,
And strove to wrap her feet
In her tattered dress all covered in snow, -
Yes covered in snow and sleet.
The hours rolled on
And the midnight chime
Rolled out like a funeral knell.
The earth seemed wrapped in
A winding sheet,
The drifting snow still fell
The rich man lay on his violet couch,
And dreamed of his silver and gold.
The orphan girl lay on her bed of snow
And Murmured: So cold, so cold.
The morning dawned and the orphan
Girl still lay at the rich man’s door
But her soul had fled to a home above
Where there’s room and bread for the Poor.