Author Douglas Hyde A fragrant prayer upon the air My child taught me, Awaken there, the morn is fair, The birds sing free; Now dawns the day, awake and pray, And bend the knee; The Lamb who lay beneath the clay Was slain for thee. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments