SONGS FOR THE

They ’re nothing to us,
And it saves the muss °
To pick them up from the floor ;
And we must do all,
Though ever so small,
That we can, to help the poor.

THE ORPHAN’S SONG.

I saw a little lamb to-day,
It was not very old;
Close by its mother’s side it lay,
So soft within the fold:
It felt no sorrow, pain, or fear,
While such a comforter was near.

Sweet little lamb, you cannot know.
What blessing I have lost:

Were you like me, what could you do,
Amid the wintry frost?

My clothes are thin, my food is poor,

And I must beg from door to door.

I had a mother once, like you,
To keep me by her side:
She cherished me and loved me too

But soon, alas, she died!
Now, sorrowful and full of care,
I’m lone and weary everywhere.

S