| I hear a low faint voice that says
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| Papa and mama’s dead
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| And it comes from the poor orphan child
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| That must be clothed and fed
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| And it comes from the poor orphan child
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| That must be clothed and fed
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| And it comes from the poor orphan child
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| That must be clothed and fed
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| Saviour, lead them by the hand
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| (Saviour, lead them by the hand
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| Yes, gently lead them by the hand)
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| Saviour, lead them by the hand
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| (Saviour, lead them by the hand
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| Yes, gently lead them by the hand)
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| Saviour, lead them by the hand
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| (Saviour, lead them by the hand
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| Yes, gently lead them by the hand)
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| Until they all reach that glittering strand
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| See all the many children now
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| Poor little boys and girls
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| Who want that mother’s loving hand
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| To smooth their golden curls
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| Who want that mother’s loving hand
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| To smooth their golden curls
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| Who want that mother’s loving hand
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| To smooth their golden curls
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| But now we see those wandering curls
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| Hang careless 'round their brow
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| They say to us, my papa’s dead
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| And I’ve no mother now
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| They say to us, my papa’s dead
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| And I’ve no mother now
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| They say to us, my papa’s dead
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| And I’ve no mother now
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| O Saviour, every orphan bless
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| Wherever they may roam
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| Bless every hand that lends them aid
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| And bless the orphan’s home
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| Bless every hand that lends them aid
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| And bless the orphan’s home
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| Bless every hand that lends them aid
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| And bless the orphan’s home |