The Poor Orphan Child <br />By Charlotte Bronte <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />(From Jane Eyre, chapter three.) <br /> <br />my feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary; <br />Long is the way, and the mountains are wild; <br />Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary <br />Over the path of the poor orphan child. <br /> <br /> <br />Why did they send me so far and so lonely, <br />Up where the moors spread and grey rocks are piled? <br />Men are hard-hearted, and kind angels only <br />Watch o'er the steps of a poor orphan child. <br /> <br /> <br />Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing, <br />Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mild, <br />God, in His mercy, protection is showing, <br />Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child. <br /> <br /> <br />Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing, <br />Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled, <br />Still will my Father, with promise and blessing, <br />Take to His bosom the poor orphan child. <br /> <br /> <br />There is a thought that for strength should avail me, <br />Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled; <br />Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me; <br />God is a friend to the poor orphan child.' <br /> <br /> <br />'When my father and my mother forsake me, then the LORD will take me up.' <br />~ Psalm 27: 10 ~<br /><br />natalie egerton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poor-orphan-child/
