The Orphan Boy's Tale
Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale,
Ah! sure my looks must pity wake,
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale.
Yet I was once a mother's pride,
And my brave father's hope and joy,
But in the Nile's proud fight he died,
And I am now an orphan boy.
Poor foolish child! how pleased was I,
When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,
And see the lighted windows flame!
To force me home my mother sought,
She could not bear to see my joy;
For with my father's life 'twas bought,
And made me a poor orphan boy.
The people's shouts were long and loud,
My mother, shuddering, clos'd her ears;
'Rejoice! rejoice!' still cried the crowd;
My mother answered with her tears.
'Why are you crying thus,' said I,
'While others laugh and shout for joy?'
She kiss'd me -- and with such a sigh!
She called me her poor orphan boy.
'What is an orphan boy?' I cried,
As in her face I look'd and smil'd;
My mother through her tears replied,
'You'll know too soon, ill-fated child!'
And now they've toll'd my mother's knell,
And I'm no more a parent's joy;
O lady, -- I have learnt too well
What 'tis to be an orphan boy.
Oh! were I by your bounty fed!
Nay, gentle lady, do not chide,--
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread;
The sailor's orphan boy has pride.
Lady, you weep! -- ha? -- this to me?
You'll give me clothing, food, employ
Look down, dear parents! look and see
Your happy, happy orphan boy!
poem by Amelia Opie
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Related quotes
Orphan Girl
(gillian welch)
I am a orphan
On gods highway
But Ill share my troubles
If you go my way
I have no mother
No father no sister
No brother
I am an orphan girl
I have had friendships
Pure and golden
But the ties of kinship
I have not known them
I know no mother
No father no sister
No brother
I am an orphan girl
But when he calls me
I will be able
To meet my family
At gods table
Ill meet my mother
My father my sister
My brother
No more an orphan girl
Blessed savior
Make me willing
And walk beside me
Until Im with them
Be my mother
My father my sister
My brother
I am an orphan girl
Be my mother
My father my sister
My brother
I am an orphan girl
I am an orphan girl
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Orphan Maid
November's hail-cloud drifts away,
November's sunbeam wan
Looks coldly on the castle grey,
When forth comes Lady Anne.
The orphan by the oak was set,
Her arms, her feet, were bare;
The hail drops had not melted yet,
Amid her raven hair.
'And, dame,' she said, 'by all the ties
That child and mother know,
Aid one who never knew these joys,
Relieve an orphan's woe.'
The lady said, 'An orphan's state
Is hard and sad to bear;
Yet worse the widow'd mother's fate
Who mourns both lord and heir.
'Twelve times the rolling year has sped,
Since, when from vengeance wild
Of fierce Strathallan's Chief I fled
Forth's eddies whelm'd my child.'
'Twelve times the year its course has borne,'
The wandering maid replied;
'Since fishers on Saint Bridget's morn
Drew nets on Campsie side.
'Saint Bridget sent no scaly spoil;
An infant, wellnigh dead,
They saved, and rear'd in want and toil,
To beg from you her bred.'
That orphan maid the lady kiss'd,-—
'My husband's looks you bear;
Saint Bridget and her morn be bless'd!
You are his widow's heir.'
They've robed that maid, so poor and pale
In silk and sandals rare;
And pearls, for drops of frozen hail,
Are glistening in her hair.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Man is An Orphan
No man died without being an orphan.
His mother dead, he is an orphan.
Wife and daughter are unfit to match her.
Mother alone has the drive to save him
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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AN ORPHAN PARTING(İ f there were no sins..How would be aware of good things)
ı have got enough of everything
life and living
seen everything I had to see
enough and enough
that is enough
now..time is approaching
it is the era and time of parting
do not acquit me
do not bless me
if you want
do not forgive my wrong doings
sins and offenses
cause ı know and ı feel
in fact who is the one offended
born an orphan
grew an orphan
ı will leave this world an orphan
let them share
what I left behind
and remember me
but my poems
I am parting as an orphan
I want to live a new life
if there is one there
may be there
I will be an orphan
my FATHER the GODMetinb SAHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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Without father - half orphan, without mother - complete orphan.
Poverty's Child
Poverty's child,
An orphan on the street,
He runs for life,
He fights for food,
He has no home,
He has no shoes,
no mother, no father,
no nothing.
He dies young...
Poverty's child,
An orphan on the street.
poem by Joseph Fuller
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No One Is Orphan, If Companion Is In Hearts!
No one is orphan here,
He that may come to your door
to test,
Whether you are orphan without
virtues,
When you have a little kindness to fellow men,
In them may certainly some fill
your heart with their gratitude
and love,
In that them, that Almighty
smiles laughs, O my dear, why you fear,
You are never an orphan,
When I am here to take care of you!
and you one day lived upto me,
And showed that no one can be
orphan, when I dwell in every heart!
And on that day,
not even,
your eyes,
but all your cells,
Comes to tear, Because the happiness of his
warmth we can't bear!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Mother the Superior
Parental love in man and woman varies.
He loves his child for his pride and future.
She loves her child for its safety and future.
The father loves the bright and the mother, the weak.
The child without mother is an orphan.
23.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Orphain Train
(Julie Miller)
Come all you broken hearted, come and lay your burden down
Come kings and queens, come royalty surrender up your crown
Come empty-handed come with nothing of your own to claim
Come naked, poor, come like a child to ride the orphan train
Chorus: Come ride, ride on the orphan train
Put your ear to the track, you can hear your name
Come ride, ride on the orphan train, it'll take you all the way home
The way is narrow, it is steep that brings you to the door
But love awaits there to embrace your heart forevermore
(Repeat Chorus)
Come you abandoned, you forsaken
Friendless and alone, come refugees left homesick for
Some place you've never known
Here princes, paupers, criminals and saints are all the same
No more or less than God's beloved child aboard this train
(Repeat Chorus twice)
It'll take you all the way home
It's gonna take you all the way home
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What'll We Do For Christmas?
What'll we do for Christmas? A child said to her Mother,
Shall we have a christmas party, cake and ice cream too;
With lots of balloons and streamers, and a star as well,
But; the mother said, give to an orphan, a Christmas bell,
Then tell them to come for tea, tell them the Christmas story;
This is what God wants us to do, to share with our family
What'll we do for Christmas, said a boy to His father,
Can we have a holiday, and take our things I'd rather;
Buy some good things to eat, and help my grandmother,
But the father said lets invite, a poor man or lady to tea,
Shower them with kindness, as we have plenty;
This is what God wants us to do, show love from you and me.
What'll we do for Christmas said children to their teacher,
Shall we have a Christmas concert, and ask the preacher;
And invite our family, and all our friends as well too,
The teacher said 'twas a great idea, the Christmas story true;
About Mary and Joseph, and Jesus born in a stable,
But remember the story is so true, it isn't just a fable.
poem by Margaret Haig
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The De Facto Orphan
THE DE FACTO ORPHAN
I have lot of kith and kin
And sadly, living parents
Yet, I lived a life, full of pains
Lonely, as that of an hapless orphan
My boyhood days in the dark boarding halls
Youthful phase was spent in a disciplined hostel
Parents were prompt in paying the mess- bills
As an unfailing donor servicing the cause of or an orphan
They never knew the times I wept
Nor the nights that went unspent
Like a soldier coming home on an annual warrant
I returned to the ‘barracks' with moods so silent
Politely signing on the dotted- lines of the reports of progress
Duties of my parents ended there itself
Inwardly I am sick, in search of love, affection and parental caress
Banished from the family web, I prefer to be listed as an ORPHAN
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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My Real Goddess
Today my mother
Came to my house
With lots of blessing
And full of good wishing
To live long
Happy and healthy
Progressive and wealthy
My mother
My sweet mother
My beautiful mother
My loving mother
My real goddess
My ever goodness
My first lady I loved
My life my mother
My soul my mother
My God-gift my mother
My pride my mother
My aim my mother
My teacher my mother
My friend my mother
My preacher my mother
My daughter's face look-like my mother
My daughter my little mother
O the Absolute Almighty
Give me my mother
Again and again
And again and again
My mother
Only my mother.
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
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Lost and Found
In a southern city lived a wealthy family;
In a southern city was the happy home
Of a father and mother and a little daughter.
In peace and contentment they lived alone.
But one summer evening there happened a misfortune,
Which caused the parents to weep and mourn,
For this little daughter, a loving little treasure,
Was a poor little wanderer far, far from home.
It happened thus, -- the mother went out calling
On a widow friend, who lived all alone;
She left her little daughter in the care of her father,
And through his neglect she wandered from home.
The father rocked his child, till her eyes closed in slumber;
Thought he to himself, I'll go over across the way,
And see a neighbor friend; he'll be there this evening,
And I must see him before he goes away.
He left his little one, he supposed, sweetly sleeping
In her little cradle, in the house alone,
And in his great hurry he left the gate ajar;
This thoughtlessness caused destruction to his home.
Soon after he was gone she awoke from her slumber,
Poor child, she then found herself all alone,
For no one was there, no one heard her weeping
As she wandered away far, far from home.
She wandered along on the busy thoroughbare,
No one seemed to notice this little one alone;
She wandered down Broadway till the little feet were tired,
This poor little wanderer far away from home.
At last, getting weary, she sat down on the pavement,
And soon fell asleep, so tired had she grown;
In her troubled sleep she would softly murmur, papa;
This poor little lost one so far away from home.
A policeman came along and saw her sweetly sleeping,
On the pavement at midnight alone.
He gently picked her up and took her to the station,
This poor little wanderer far away from home.
He advertised, but could not find her parents;
At last he took her to the orphan home,
Where she lived till a farmer in the country
Took her to live with him, this wanderer alone.
The father died o'er the loss of his daughter,
The mother sought for her three years alone;
At last she found her with kind people in the country,
Her poor little wanderer far away from home.
Kind people can imagine the joy of the mother,
When she found her little loving one.
"Oh God," exclaimed the mother, "I have found my little Alice,
My poor little wanderer far away from home.
poem by Julia A Moore
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I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU (Isaiah 49: 14-16)
I will never forget you,
My people
I have carved you
on the palm of My hand
I will never forget you
I will not leave you orphan
I will never forget My own
Does a mother forget her baby,
or a woman the child
within her womb?
Yet even if these forget,
yes even if these forget,
I will never forget My own
I will never forget you,
My people
I have carved you
on the palm of My hand
I will never forget you
I will not leave you orphan
I will never forget you,
My people
I have carved you
on the palm of My hand
I will never forget you
I will not leave you orphan
I will never forget My own
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Add Assets To The Society
Competitive but not accommodating,
Energetic but not sympathetic,
Prosperous but not generous,
And aggressive but not considerate
You make your children at all cost.
You beam with their growth and your worth.
They would orphan you at a later stage
And orphan each other among themselves
Foe want of qualities you have ignored
To inculcate in their characters.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Sad Spring
The Spring weeps, she is forlorn;
Well that she may weep, alas!
Now that many babes are born
Whose dear fathers lie in grass.
Snowdrops in the frozen earth
Faint and are not comforted;
Never was so sad a birth,
Never was so sad a bed.
She must bear her pangs alone.
Where is sorrow like to hers?
In an anguish cold as stone
Her dead soldier's child she bears.
Now her trembling arms will hold
Close the piteous downy thing
To a milky breast as cold
As the frozen water-spring.
Now she hopes and dreads to find
Likeness in the little son
To his father, brave and kind.
Like or not, her heart's undone.
Tender nurslings born in pain,
Mother's comfort, mother's grief,
When her tears run down like rain,
Lord, bring Thou a handkerchief.
Wipe the widow's tears away,
Father orphan boys and girls.
Lead them out where they may play,
With Thy hand upon their curls.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Prayer of an Orphan Child
The Prayer of an Orphan Child
Silver clouds silver clouds
Will you play with me as a mate?
As an orphan,
none is there to play with me.
Ivory moon. My Sweety
will you kiss me to bid good night?
As a motherless child
to remember Her love.
Jasmine buds, Jasmine buds
Will you smile in morning times
to stay in your beauty and
to keep your smile always
Chilly breeze My Darling!
Will you raise me from my bed?
to enjoy the sweetness of dawns and
to pray Him for giving my thanks
poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
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I'm Proud To Be A Pakistani!
Oh nation that I love
'Land of the pure'
Orphan at birth
Left insecure
Oh great father lost
Prey to the world
While the good die young
Corruption rules the earth
Hopes are quick lost
Difficult to bring back
One ray of hope:
'The meek shall inherit the earth'
Note: The second line is in colons because thats the meaning of 'Pakistan.' Pakistan is also the 'orphan' and the 'prey' because its father i.e its founder, the Quaid died when Pakistan came into exsistence. he is the '..great father lost.'
poem by Amatullah Areeba Ashfaq
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The Orphan's Friend
Come all kind, good people,
With sympathizing hearts,
Come listen to a few kind words
A friend to you imparts.
Be kind to an orphan child,
And always be its friend,
You will be happy in this world,
And will be to the end.
Be kind to the motherless,
Little motherless ones,
For God will forever bless
You in this world to come.
No kind and loving mother
To soothe their little brow,
Be kind to them always, friends,
They have no mother now.
Be kind to the fatherless,
Wherever you may find
One little one that is friendless,
I pray you all be kind.
For it has no loving father,
To speak with mild reproof,
Or guide its youthful footsteps
In honesty and truth.
Be kind to the little orphans,
They have no parents dear;
Be kind to the little orphans,
Speak to them words of cheer,
Then they will always love you
For kind and gentle words,
Then God will ever bless you,
For He says so in His word.
poem by Julia A Moore
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The Orphan
Alone, alone! - no other face
Wears kindred smile, kindred line;
And yet they say my mother's eyes.
They say my father's brow, is mine;
And either had rejected to see
The other's likeness in my face,
But now it is a stranger's eye,
That finds some long forgotten trace.
I heard them name my father's death,
His home and tomb alike the wave;
And I was early taught to weep,
Beside my youthful mother's grave.
I wish I could recall one look, -
But only one familiar tone;
If I had aught of memory,
I should not feel so all alone.
My heart is gone beyond the grave,
In search of love I cannot find,
Till I could fancy soothing words
Are whisper'd by the ev'ning wind:
I gaze upon the watching stars,
So clear, so beautiful above,
Till I could dream they look on me
With something of an answering love.
My mother! does thy gentle eye
Look from those distant stars on me?
Or does the wind at ev'ning bear
A message to thy child from thee?
Dost thou pine for me, as I pine
Again a parent's love to share?
I often kneel beside thy grave,
And pray to be a sleeper there.
The vesper bell! - 'tis eventide,
I will not weep, but I will pray:
God of the fatherless, 'tis Thou
Alone canst be the orphan's stay!
Earth's meanest flower, heaven's mightiest star,
Are equal to their Maker's love.
And I can say, 'Thy will be done,'
With eyes that fix their hopes above.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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