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
OD 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.
