• I stare at my darlings,
    Their fortunes are much more.
    As I was not so fine
    Orphans as my core.

    My life was a prison,
    A bedroom like a cell
    Still a roof above my head,
    So foundlings could be well.

    I was but a number
    another mouth to feed.
    Though in there, I was fed,
    and given what I’d need.

    Now, it seems, my children
    Frown although their worth.
    But, for me, a children’s home,
    Was a blessing from the earth.