No children in the house to play— br It must be hard to live that way! br I wonder what the people do br When night comes on and the work is through, br With no glad little folks to shout, br No eager feet to race about, br No youthful tongues to chatter on br About the joy that's been and gone? br The house might be a castle fine, br But what a lonely place to dine! br br No children in the house at all, br No fingermarks upon the wall, br No corner where the toys are piled— br Sure indication of a child. br No little lips to breathe the prayer br That God shall keep you in His care, br No glad caress and welcome sweet br When night returns you to your street; br No little lips a kiss to give— br Oh, what a lonely way to live! br br No children in the house! I fear br We could not stand it half a year. br What would we talk about at night, br Plan for and work with all our might, br Hold common dreams about and find br True union of heart and mind, br If we two had no greater care br Than what we both should eat and wear? br We never knew love's brightest flame br Until the day the baby came. br br And now we could not get along br Without their laughter and their song. br Joy is not bottled on a shelf, br It cannot feed upon itself, br And even love, if it shall wear, br Must find its happiness in care; br Dull we'd become of mind and speech br Had we no little ones to teach.