Читать книгу The Deaf Shoemaker - Barrett Philip - Страница 5
THE ORPHAN
Оглавление“An orphan in the cold wide world,
Dear Lord, I come to Thee:
Thou, Father of the fatherless,
My Friend and Father be!”
“Cold is the world without a father’s arm to shield, and a mother’s heart to love. The sun shines but dimly on the head of the orphan, for sorrow claims such as its own, and no earthly power can release from its embrace. When a father dies, and she who ‘loves with a deep, strong, fervent love,’ is laid in the grave, then is the brightness of earthly existence extinguished.”
Children, how accurately do the above lines describe the lonely and forsaken condition of the orphan!
Have you never felt your little hearts throb with sorrow when you saw the children of the Orphan Asylum walk quietly down the aisle of the church and seat themselves in regular order in the front pews? Did not their plain dress speak to you in language which you were obliged to hear? Did not the prayer arise from your breasts, that God would be a Father to the fatherless, that He would watch over, guide and protect, throughout the journey of life, that helpless little band of fatherless and motherless children?
How lonely must their condition be. No father to counsel, no mother to love, no home beneath whose shelter they may rest, but dependent upon the cold charities of a colder world.He who would treat unkindly, or wound the feelings of an orphan, is worse than the brute of the field.My young orphan friends, there is but one source to which I can direct you; there is but one friend who will never desert you; there is but one house whose door will never be closed against you.That source is God; that friend is Christ; that house is one not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. God will counsel you; upon the bosom of Christ you may “lean for repose;” and the angels of heaven will ever welcome you to their blest abode.The kind father and the loving mother, from whom you have been separated by death, you shall meet again, if you are Christians.And to you, dear little readers, who know not the length and breadth and depth of a Saviour’s love, let me say one word: There is no orphanage like that of the soul which leans not upon Christ as its Saviour and Redeemer.
He who would treat unkindly, or wound the feelings of an orphan, is worse than the brute of the field.
My young orphan friends, there is but one source to which I can direct you; there is but one friend who will never desert you; there is but one house whose door will never be closed against you.
That source is God; that friend is Christ; that house is one not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. God will counsel you; upon the bosom of Christ you may “lean for repose;” and the angels of heaven will ever welcome you to their blest abode.
The kind father and the loving mother, from whom you have been separated by death, you shall meet again, if you are Christians.
And to you, dear little readers, who know not the length and breadth and depth of a Saviour’s love, let me say one word: There is no orphanage like that of the soul which leans not upon Christ as its Saviour and Redeemer.
LAMENT OF AN ORPHAN
“Homeless, friendless, for many years
I’ve wandered far and wide,
With none to wipe away my tears,
And none to be my guide.
“No gentle word to soothe my grief,
Words so harshly spoken;
No tender hand to give relief,
And now my heart is broken.
“I sigh to think in former days,
When by my mother’s side
I watched the sun’s last golden rays
As they sank at eventide.
“Oft I’ve played beside the brook,
My brother’s hand in hand,
As each did seek his favor’d nook,
Then we’re a merry band.
“I have no friends – my mother’s gone,
She is far, far away;
I sit beside her lowly stone,
And sing my plaintive lay.
“I pray that God will take me home
To that bright world above;
There we shall meet to part no more,
In that heaven of love.
“Death has marked me for its own,
And I no more shall rove;
God has called the orphan child
To praise with Him above.
“Can you hear my prayer, Mother,
In yonder region bright?
I’m coming to you now, Mother,
Earth’s but a dismal night.”
