Not for a trice feel a wayward twinge br for distant bells that hollow ring br familiar creak of the wooden loft br loving caress to a cheek so soft br br so hold your child and merrily sing br to hug him dear and arms fling br savor the morning's early dew br tis the love that but earn a few br br look the eye of your beaming beau br the glint therein that you watched grew br in your frock and braid and held flower br the sun the moon and shining star br br the well worn stair, forward deck br wizened eye that seeks your beck br feline grace of your cat’s stretch br topped pail, in which you water fetch br br sing and dance and take a step br to homely kitchen and roasting prep br tumblers stacked and the slanty mop br from window watch that ye often hopbr br saadat tahirbr br