Orphan children two and two,
Wandering gladly on we view,
All of them blue coats are wearing,
All of them red cheeks are bearing—
O the pretty orphan children!
All are moved when thus they prattle,
And the money boxes rattle;
Liberal alms upon them flow,
That their secret sires bestow,—
O the pretty orphan children!
Women of a feeling heart
Many a poor child kiss apart,
Kiss his driv’lling nose (not pleasant),
Give him sweetmeats as a present—
O the pretty orphan children!
One, with timid face but willing,
Throws into the box a shilling,—
For he has a heart,—then gaily
Follows he his business daily—
O the pretty orphan children!
One a golden louis-d’or
Next bestows, but not before
Heavenward looking, hoping blindly
That the Lord will view him kindly—
O the pretty orphan children!
Porters, coopers, working men,
Servants, make to-day again
Holiday, and drain their glasses,
Drinking to these lads and lasses—
O the pretty orphan children!
Tutelar Hammonia
Follows them incognita;
As she moves, her form gigantic
Sways about, in manner frantic—
O the pretty orphan children!
In the green field where they went
Music fills the lofty tent,
Cover’d o’er with flag and banner;
There are fed in sumptuous manner
All these pretty orphan children.
There in lengthy rows they sit,
Eating many a nice tit-bit,
Tarts and cakes and sweet things crunching,
While like little mice they’re munching,—
All these pretty orphan children.
Now my thoughts to dwell begin
On an orphan-house wherein
There no feasting is or gladness,
Where lament in ceaseless sadness,
Millions of poor orphan children.
There no uniforms are seen,
Many want their dinner e’en;
No two walk together yonder,
Lonely, sorrowfully wander
Many million orphan children.