Over the Hills to the Poorhouse

Oh how can it be they have driven
Our father so helpless and old
Oh God may their crimes be forgiven
To perish out here in the cold

Chorus
I'm old, I'm helpless and feeble
And the days of my youth have gone by
And over the hills to the poor house
I must wander alone there to die

Long years since Mary was taken
My faithful affectionate wife
Since then I've been alone and forsaken
The light has died out of my life

Oh me on the doorstep up yonder
I've set with my babes on my knee
No father so happy or fonder
Than I of my little ones three

I gave them the place that they lived on
A deed to the farm and more
I gave them the house they were born in
And now I am turned from its door