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.

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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.