Twilight Stories

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

 Between the dark and 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 lamp-light,
      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 in the dungeon,
      In the round-tower of my heart.

 And there I will keep you forever,
      Yes, forever and a day,
  Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
      And moulder in dust away.

                     HENRY W.  LONGFELLOW.

 I will dig me a garden and plant it with seeds,
      I will hoe and water it and keep down the weeds;
  Then perhaps some of these bright summer days,
      To mamma I can carry big boquets.