Found Dying in the Street (Chas Chilton)

Subject: Found Dying in the Street (Chas Chilton)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 10 Nov 25 - 05:57 PM

Gwyneth Try sang this interesting song at the Mudcat Singaround last week.

FOUND DYING IN THE STREET
(Charles Chilton)

See yonder stands a trembling form in sorrow grief and woe,
Her cheek bones were once like roses red but now they’re like the snow.
She struggles on from day to day to gain her daily bread
To keep her widowed mother dear: All friends but her are dead.

She worked her fingers to the bone, So young and yet so fair,
There’s many a wealthy tempter tried to draw her to his snare.
‘Tis such as her we meet each day, forsaken and dead beat,
They find for them a pauper’s grave, when found dying in the street.

She’s but a milliner, poor thing, She works hard night and day.
She’s young and handsome too — Please God, protect her on her way.
Hard work is killing that poor girl, Forgotten by the gay.
She’s insulted in the London streets, as onward she wends her way

There came one rich and wealthy, who deceived her with his smile,
He won her mother’s side – He’d no pity for her child.
She was tempted by his flattery he spoke with words so sweet.
There is many a poor fond sister dear found dying in the streets.

It almost broke her mother’s heart to see her daughter dear,
In rags she wandered through the streets, but alas her time was near
One day poor girl they brought her home, She scarce could draw her breath
They laid her by her mother’s side, She was marked by the hand of death.

To the poor house they took her away her darling little child.
It looked up in the stranger’s face with its little features mild.
That poor girl she gave a sigh And kissed her babe so dear.
There is many a poor girl found dying in the streets like her.

Then they bore her wasted form away straight to a pauper’s grave.
May our Father in his mercy watch and her little offspring save
That little darling was too young to know its mother’s shame
She was left to die by him she loved, Though he had wealth and fame.

Her aged mother too soon died: She was mouldering in the clay
The little orphan left alone In silence for to pray.
May she live a life of happiness with her angel face so sweet
Not share her poor dear mother’s fate, found dying in the street.

Victorian Folk Songs by Charles Chilton. P 56

I can't find anything else about the song.