Julia A. Moore

The Sweet Singer of Michigan


LOST AND FOUND

In a southern city lived a wealthy family;
     In a southern city was the happy home
Of a father and mother and a little daughter.
     In peace and contentment they lived alone.

But one summer evening there happened a misfortune,
     Which caused the parents to weep and mourn,
For this little daughter, a loving little treasure,
     Was a poor little wanderer far, far from home.

It happened thus, -- the mother went out calling
     On a widow friend, who lived all alone;
She left her little daughter in the care of her father,
     And through his neglect she wandered from home.

The father rocked his child, till her eyes closed in slumber;
     Thought he to himself, I'll go over across the way,
And see a neighbor friend; he'll be there this evening,
     And I must see him before he goes away.

He left his little one, he supposed, sweetly sleeping
     In her little cradle, in the house alone,
And in his great hurry he left the gate ajar;
     This thoughtlessness caused destruction to his home.

Soon after he was gone she awoke from her slumber,
     Poor child, she then found herself all alone,
For no one was there, no one heard her weeping
     As she wandered away far, far from home.

She wandered along on the busy thoroughbare,
     No one seemed to notice this little one alone;
She wandered down Broadway till the little feet were tired,
     This poor little wanderer far away from home.

At last, getting weary, she sat down on the pavement,
     And soon fell asleep, so tired had she grown;
In her troubled sleep she would softly murmur, papa;
     This poor little lost one so far away from home.

A policeman came along and saw her sweetly sleeping,
     On the pavement at midnight alone.
He gently picked her up and took her to the station,
     This poor little wanderer far away from home.

He advertised, but could not find her parents;
     At last he took her to the orphan home,
Where she lived till a farmer in the country
     Took her to live with him, this wanderer alone.

The father died o'er the loss of his daughter,
     The mother sought for her three years alone;
At last she found her with kind people in the country,
     Her poor little wanderer far away from home.

Kind people can imagine the joy of the mother,
     When she found her little loving one.
"Oh God," exclaimed the mother, "I have found my little Alice,
     My poor little wanderer far away from home.



Reprinted from The Sweet Singer of Michigan: Poems by Mrs. Julia A. Moore ,
ed. Walter Blair (Chicago: Pascal Covici, 1928).
Note: I leave "thoroughbare" uncorrected, although it is most likely merely a typographical error for "thoroughfare".
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