little orphan girl - doc watson, fred price & clint howard lyrics
[intro]
i used to hear my mother sing this
as far back as i can remember hearing anybody sing anything
one of the first ballads i can ever remember hearing
some call it the— “the little orphan girl”
some call it “the frozen girl”, i dunno, uh
i think it must be one of the old english ballads
[verse 1]
“no home, no home,” said a little girl
at the door of a rich man’s home
she trembling stood on the marble steps
and leaned on the polished wall
[verse 2]
the little girl, still trembling, stood
before that rich man’s door
with a frowning face, he scornfully said
“no room, no bread for the poor”
[verse 3]
the rich man went to his table so fine
where he and his family were fed
but the orphan stood in the snow outside
and cried for a piece of bread
[verse 4]
that night he slept on his velvet couch
and he dreamed of his silver and gold
but the orphan lay in a bed of snow
as she murmured, “so cold, so cold”
[verse 5]
the hours rolled on through the midnight storm
rolled on like a funeral bell
the sleet still fell in a blinding sheet
and the drifting snow still fell
[verse 6]
when morning dawned the little girl
still lay near the rich man’s door
but her soul had fled away to its home
where there’s room and there’s bread for the poor
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