The Children’s Hour

by: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(Born Feb. 27, 1807; died Mar. 24, 1882)

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the light is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day’s occupation
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,
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!
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 I will keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day.
Till the wall shall crumble to ruin,
And molder in dust away.

Return to Then They Wrote II Index

Return to the poetry index

D.U.O Project
Church of the Science of God
La Jolla, California 92038-3131
(858)220-1604

© Church of the Science of GOD, 1993
Web Designed by WebDiva