I.
Parent to those, whose infant days
No human parent know;
To thee, O Charity! the praise
Of filial love shall flow.
Base want, and vice, a foe to all!
Round us their snares had thrown.
Had not thy arm, at pity's call,
Embrac'd us for thine own.
O blest the land! where all to Thee
A tender homage pay!
Where indigence and wealth agree
To venerate thy sway!
That land the wrath of Heaven may spare.
When ruthless nations groan;
Her guarded orphan's grateful prayer
May rise to mercy's throne.
Parent to those, whose infant days
No human parent know;
To Thee, O Charity, the praise
Of filial love shall flow.
II.
We have no parent but our God;
Yet will we not in grief despair;
For He this vale of sorrow trod,
To make the desolate his care.
The voice of innocence and youth,
To Thee, meek Saviour! may ascend;
Thou God of Tenderness, and Truth,
Of Infancy Thou art the Friend.
Thro! tears, that fill the orphan's eye,
With humble confidence we see
Calamity, an holy tie!
That binds our helpless tribe to Thee.
For charity, angelic power!
Thy fav'rite delegate below!
Makes industry, our peaceful dower!
A guard from indigence and woe.
We have no parent, but our God;
In Him we trust, who reigns above:
Children He blest, when here He trod,
And we are children of his love.