The watchful mother tarries nigh Though sleep have closed her infant's eye, For should he wake, and find her gone, She knows she could not bear his m… - John Keble

Sweet is the smile of home; the mutual look
When hearts are of each other sure;
Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook,
The haunt of all affections pure.

The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask.

Soft as Memnon's harp at morning,
To the inward ear devout,
Touched by light, with heavenly warning
Your transporting chords ring out.
Every leaf in every nook,
Every wave in every brook,
Chanting with a solemn voice,
Minds us of our better choice.