Hymns And Odes For Charity Occasions Vi Poem by John Pierpont

Weary travellers are we,
And our word is briefly spoken;
We must lean on charity,
For our 'stay and staff' is broken.


We are widows;-o'er the dead
Oft we bend, to feed our sorrow;
But the grave can give no bread,
And we have none for to-morrow.


We are fatherless;-the crowd
Passes by and does not heed us.
We are hungry;-but the proud
Shelter not, nor clothe, nor feed us.


From our loved and lost ones parted,
We are journeying on alone.
We are sick and broken-hearted,-
For our hearts were not of stone.


We would gladly serve you, neighbour,
Could we earn the coarsest meal;
But, we 're yet too young to labor;-
Must we starve,-or, must we steal?


We'll do neither!-there are, round us,
Pitying hearts and willing hands;
Woman's melting eye has found us;
She beside us pleading stands.


Our fair friends, here, have been vying
With each other in our aid,
Night and day their needles plying,-
See, what charming things they've made!


Let us lead you to this table,
By their fairy fingers dressed;-
As you stand here, you'll be able
To look round on all the rest.


This young lady is our sister;-
Is n't this a rare display?
There! we knew you'd not resist her;-
Pray you, Madam, step this way.


This good woman is our mother,
For a mother's heart is hers.
All good people help each other,
All are thus God's ministers.


Friends, we have been faint and weary
Travellers on life's thorny way;
But our path looks now less dreary;
Sunshine falls upon 't to-day.


Love's warm sunshine! How resplendent
Art thou to the Orphan boy,
Whom thou makest Independent,
On this day of general joy!