The Children's 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!