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Felicia Dorothea Hemans - The Hour Of Prayer
Work rating: Low

Child, amidst the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Mother, with thine earnest eye,
Ever following silently;
Father, by the breeze of eve,
Call`d 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 gone;
Captive, in whose narrow cell
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell;
Sailor, on the dark`ning 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!
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