We may pass through the world amid pleasure's beams,
And glide o'er the waves of sunshiny streams;
Or 'mong glooms and shades we may sadly rove
Without one bright sunbeam of joy or love
To gladden our hearts where'er we may roam,
Or gleam o'er our paths like a smile from home; —
But whate'er our fate be — pleasure or care —
Oh, we never forget our childhood's prayer!

Memories of youth may be lost in the past,
And its dreams may fade before sorrow's blast;
But one memory can ne'er forgotten be, —
'Tis the prayer we lisped at a parent's knee!
Other things may fade from the heart that will,
But that keeps its place on its tablet still;
For a mother's voice has imprinted there
The hallowed words of our childhood's prayer!
As a traveller far from his native shore,
Which he knows he never may look on more,
Mid joy or grief will recall to his mind
Some loved scene sadly left behind: —
So do we look back to our earlier days,
Amid sorrow's glooms or mid pleasure's rays;
And falling like balm through the holy air
Come the simple words of our childhood's prayer!