Alone, in the dreary, pitiless street, With my torn old dress and bare, cold feet, All day I've wandered to and fro, Hungry and shivering and nowhere to go; The night's coming on in darkness and dread, And the chill sleet beating upon my bare head; Oh! why does the wind blow upon me so wild? Is it because I'm nobody's child?
Just over the way there's a flood of light, And warmth and beauty, and all things bright; Beautiful children, in robes so fair, Are caroling songs in rapture there. I wonder if they, in their blissful glee, Would pity a poor little beggar like me; Wandering alone in the merciless street, Naked and shivering and nothing to eat.
Oh! what shall I do when the night comes down, In its terrible darkness, all over the town? Shall I lay me down 'neath the angry sky, On the cold, hard pavements, alone, to die? When the beautiful children their prayers have said, And mamas have tucked them up snugly in bed. No dear mother ever upon me smiled— Why is it, I wonder, that I'm nobody's child.
No father, no mother, no sister, not one In all the world loves me; e'en the little dogs run, When I wander too near them; 'tis wondrous to see, How everything shrinks from a beggar like me! Perhaps 'tis a dream; but sometimes, when I lie Gazing far up in the dark, blue sky, Watching for hours some large, bright star, I fancy the beautiful gates are ajar.
And a host of white-robed, nameless things, Come fluttering o'er me in gilded wings; A hand that is strangely soft and fair, Caresses gently my tangled hair, And a voice like the carol of some wild bird, The sweetest voice that was ever heard— Calls me many a dear pet name, 'Till my heart and spirits are all aflame;
And tells me of such unbounded love, And bids me come up to their home above, And then, with such pitiful, sad surprise, They look at me with their sweet blue eyes, And it seems to me, out of the dreary night, I am going up to the world of light, And away from the hunger and storms so wild— I am sure I shall then be somebody's child.