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7s. M.

Mrs. Hemans.

All Must Pray.

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

Called thy daily toil 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 darkening sea,

Lift the heart, and bend the knee!

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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