The Children's Hour

Between the dark and the daylight, 

When the night is beginning to lower, 

Comes a pause in the day's occupations, 

That is known as the Children's Hour. 

I hear in the chamber above me 

The patter of little feet, 

The sound of a door that is opened, 

And voices soft and sweet. 

From my study I see in the lamplight, 

Descending the broad hall stair, 

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, 

And Edith with golden hair. 

A whisper, and then a silence: 

Yet I know by their merry eyes 

They are plotting and planning together 

To take me by surprise. 

A sudden rush from the stairway, 

A sudden raid from the hall! 

By three doors left unguarded 

They enter my castle wall! 

They climb up into my turret 

O'er the arms and back of my chair; 

If I try to escape, they surround me; 

They seem to be everywhere. 

They almost devour me with kisses, 

Their arms about me entwine, 

Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen 

In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine! 

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, 

Because you have scaled the wall, 

Such an old mustache as I am 

Is not a match for you all! 

I have you fast in my fortress, 

And will not let you depart, 

But put you down into the dungeon 

In the round-tower of my heart. 

And there will I keep you forever, 

Yes, forever and a day, 

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, 

And moulder in dust away! 

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow