788. L. M. Mrs. Nichols.
Anniversary of an Orphan Asylum.
1Our Father! we may lisp that name,
When lowly at thy feet we bow;
Thy little children lightly blame,
For thou'rt our only parent now!
2We are a stricken, humble band,
With hearts that thrill to words of love,
And cling confiding to the hand
That points us to a home above.
3Though 'mong the lowly of the earth,
Contented with our homely fare,
How cheerful was the orphan's hearth
Before cold Death had entered there
4No mother's voice soothes us to rest--
No father's smile our vision greets:
Yet we've a home in every breast
That with a tender feeling beats.
5And thou hast raised us many a friend,
Not bound by ties of kindred blood;
Then let our hearts in prayer ascend
To thee, our Father--Saviour--God!