Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread; Oh! Children, When You Pray, And Morn And Night Repeat These Words, Think What It Is You Say. You Never Asked A Piece Of Bread, And Had That Wish Denied; For Food To Eat, And Some To Spare, Has Always Been Supplied. But O'Er The Ocean, Many A Cheek With Want Grows Thin And Pale; And Many Suffer Like The Boy Of Whom I Tell This Tale. He Lay Upon Some Scattered Straw,-- His Strength Was Almost Gone,-- And, In A Feeble Voice, He Cried, Give Me Three Grains Of Corn!"" Three Grains From Out His Jacket Torn, His Trembling Mother Drew, 'Twas All She Had--She Gave Them Him, Though She Was Starving Too! Be Very Grateful, Children, Then, For All That You Enjoy; Remembering, As You Say Those Words, The Little Irish Boy."