In the days when we went gipsying,
A long time ago
Watch‘d o‘er the steps of a poor orphan child.
"Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing,
Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mildGod, in His mercy, protection is showing,
Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child.
"Ev‘n should I fall o‘er the broken bridge passing,
Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled,
Still will my Father, with promise and blessing,
Take to His bosom the poor orphan child.
"There is a thought that for strength should avail me,
Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled;Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me;God is a friend to the poor orphan child."
- P48
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