The Poor Orphan Child

I hear a low faint voice of death call
Full and mamma’s dead
And it comes from the poor orphan child
That must be clothed and fed
And it calls from the poor orphan child
That must be clothed and fed
And it calls from the poor orphan child
That must be clothed and fed
Savior lead them by the hand
(Gently lead them by the hand)
Savior lead them by the hand
(Gently lead them by the hand)
Savior lead them by the hand
Till they all reach that glittering strand
They call from mended children mouths
poor little boys and girls
Who once had loved their loving hands
To smooth their golden curls
Who wanted mothers loving hands
To smooth their golden curls
Who wanted mothers loving hands
To smooth their golden curls
But now we see those wandering curls
Hang gallop round their brow
They say to us my pappa’s dead
And I’ve no mother now
They say to us my pappa’s dead
And I’ve no mother now
They say to us my pappa’s dead
And I’ve no mother now
Oh, savior every orphan breath
Wherever they may roam
Bless every hand that leaves them
Aid and bless the orphan home
Bless every hand that leaves them
Aid and bless the orphan home
Bless every hand that leaves them
Aid and bless the orphan home