Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Children's Hour
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the days 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 stairs,
Brave Alice and laughing Alegra,
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 a door that is left unguarded,
They enter my castle wall.
They climb up into my turret,
O'er the arms and the back of my chair,
If I try to escape, they surround me,
They seem to be every where.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Binger,
In his mouse tower on the Rhine.
Do you think, O blue eyed bandit!
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old moustache 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 dungeons,
In the round tower of my heart.
And there I will keep you forever,
Yes forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to mush,
And smoulder in dust away.
Henry W. Longfellow