Henry Wadsworth Longfellow — The Childrens 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!