The Children’s Hour by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Sep 22, 1910

The Children’s Hour

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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 molder in dust away!

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.