We scarce, O God! could lisp thy name, <br />When those who loved us passed away, <br />And left us but thy love to claim, <br />With but an infant's strength to pray. <br /> <br />Thou gav'st that Refuge and that Shrine, <br />At which we learn to know thy ways; <br />Father! the fatherless are thine! <br />Thou wilt not spurn the orphan's praise. <br /> <br />Yet hear a single cry of pain! <br />Lord! whilst we dream in quiet beds, <br />The summer sun and winter rain <br />Beat still on many homeless heads. <br /> <br />And o'er this weary earth, we know, <br />Young outcasts roam the waste and wave; <br />And little hands are clasped in woe <br />Above some tender mother's grave. <br /> <br />Ye winds! keep every storm aloof, <br />And kiss away the tears they weep! <br />Ye skies, that make their only roof, <br />Look gently on their houseless sleep! <br /> <br />And thou, O Friend and Father! find <br />A home to shield their helpless youth! <br />Dear hearts to love -- sweet ties to bind -- <br />And guide and guard them in the truth!<br /><br />Henry Timrod<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hymn-sung-at-an-anniversary-of-the-asylum-of-orphans-at-charleston/
