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“My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary;
Long is the way, and the mountains are wild;
Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary
Over the path of the poor orphan child.
--
Bessie's song (Ch. 3)

 

Charlotte Bronte

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The way is long and dreary,
The path is bleak and bare;
Our feet are worn and weary,
But we will not despair;
More weary was Thy burden,
More desolate Thy ways,
O Lamb of God, who takest
The sin of the world away,
Have mercy upon us.

 

Adelaide Anne Procter

 

And sometimes when I am weary,
When the path is thorny and Wild,
I'll look back to the Eyes in the twilight,
Back to the eyes that smiled.

 

Voltairine de Cleyre

 

And the Shadow of the Night and not Love was departed;
I was sore, I was weary, yet Love lived to seek;
So I scaled the dark mountains, and wandered sad-hearted
Over wearier wastes, where e'en sunlight was bleak,
With no rest of the night for my soul waxen weak.

 

William Morris

 

who will draw the calvary in
risk his very own precious skin
to make our Angelinia a free and peaceful land again?
Henry
who'll love a poor orphan child?
Henry Darger

 

Natalie Merchant

 

The cold winds sweeping the mountain-height,
And pathless was the dreary wild,
And ’mid the cheerless hours of night
A mother wandered with her child:
As through the drifting snows she press’d,
The babe was sleeping on her breast.

 

Seba Smith