Hymns for Childhood/The Hour of Prayer

by Felicia Hemans

For other versions of this work, see The Hour of Prayer.

THE HOUR OF PRAYER.^[1]

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Child! amidst the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Mother! with thine earnest eye,
Ever watching silently;
Father! by the breeze of eve
Called, thy harvest-work to leave;
Pray! ere yet the dark hours be—
Lift the heart and bend the knee!

Traveller! in the stranger's land,
Far from thine own household band;
Mourner! haunted by the tone
Of a voice from this world flown;
Captive! in whose narrow cell
Sunshine has not leave to dwell;
Sailor! on the darkening sea—
Lift the heart and bend the knee!

Warrior! that from battle won
Breathest now at set of sun;
Woman! o'er the lowly slain
Weeping on his burial plain;
Ye that triumph, ye that sigh,
Kindred by one holy tie,
Heaven's first star alike ye see—
Lift the heart and bend the knee!

1. This little piece, on account of its peculiar appropriateness here, is reprinted from a former publication.