POOR little weary stranger
There on the cold, hard stone,
With neither father nor mother,
An orphan, and left alone.
All the long day she has traveled,
She only is eight years old;
So poor, neglected, and helpless,
Too young to be out in the cold.
She started out in the morning
To earn her the daily bread;
Poor lamb! she has toiled for nothing,
And the weary little head
Sinks down again on the doorstep,
Oh! such a picture of woe;
She had stayed to rest a little,
The day’s work had tired her so.
Ah! ye who are sometimes weary
And think ye are left alone;
Forgetting the loving Saviour
Who never forgets His own.
Do ye think that He has left you
Alone and uncared for too?
He hath said, “I will not leave you
Orphans, I will come to you.”
Think ye that that loving Saviour
Would leave you weary and worn,
To tread a long toilsome journey
To the place where He has gone?
Ah! no, He is watching o’er you
And tending you all the way;
And the long dark night of weeping
Endeth soon in perfect day.
Q.