Between the dark and the daylight, When 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 moustache 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 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 the dust away.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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