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 chamber¹ 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，

    Descending² 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 turret³

    O'er the arms and back of my chair；

    If I try to escape， they surround me；

    They seem to be everywhere.

    They almost devour⁴ me with kisses，

    Their arms about me entwine，

    Till I think of the Bishop⁵ 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 fortress⁶，

    And will not let you depart，

    But put you down into the dungeon⁷

    In the round-tower of my heart.

    And there will I keep you forever，

    Yes， forever and a day，

    Till the walls shall crumble⁸ to ruin，

    And moulder⁹ in dust away！

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