I heat the people sing about a Drunkard's raggit woan,
As I wander through the streets quite dejected and alane ;
Baith hungry. cauld, and raggit, and nae frien's at a' hae
And oh I there's few to pity me, a puir wee Orphan Boy.
But ance I kent a faither's love, and a mither's tender care
To sooth my wee bit sorrows, and my infant joys to share;
But noo, beneath the cauld clay, in yon kirk-yard they lie,
And noo I wander, quite forlorn, a puir wee Orphan Boy.
Wi' scarce a rag upon my back, or shoon upon my feet.
1 wade amang the cauld snaw, the hail, the rain, and sleet,
An' often dreepit to the skin, upon some stair I lie.
For oh! there's nane to shelter me, a puir wee Orphan Boy.
And often when I'm hungry, and gangs to seek a piece,
The folk dae tak' me for a chief, and threaten the Police ;
Ithers turn me rudely frae their door, while weak and faint am.
But oh! I ken I manna steal though I'm an Orphan Boy.
And often I've been glad, ithsr happy weans to see,
Playin' in the streets, wi' their hearts fu' o'gloe ;
I've quite forgot my sorrows, as I stood to sco their joy,
And oh ! there's nane o' them like me. & puir wee Orphan Bo,
O surely they are happy weans, wha hae their parents dear,
To find them every comfort, and their little hour's to shoer ;
But I'll put my trust in Him abune. wha hears the orphan's cry
He's the only frien'that can protect the pair wee Orphan Boy
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Probable period of publication:
1850-1870 shelfmark: RB.m.169(061)
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