Thou Father of the fatherless,

A band of orphans see,

And from Thy throne of glory bless,

Our little family:--

A little family, who share

No human parents' love;

And yet for whom Thou wilt prepare

A house and home above:--

A home above, if train'd up here,

In Wisdom's paths to go.

We travel heavenward in Thy fear,

From this sweet home below:--

This home below, where we have found

Refuge in time of need,

And meet upon its holy ground,

Friends, who are friends indeed.

For friends indeed to us are they,

Who, for our Saviour's sake,

Have sought us out, like lambs astray,

Their bounty to partake:

Thine is their bounty,--theirs not less,

Though Thine what each imparts,

When, to relieve the fatherless,

Thy love constrains their hearts.