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Tuesday, March 06, 2007

A Blast From the Past

Last night, I suddenly remembered this classic poem that my dad used to read to me when I was a kid. The memory brought a flood of tears. Dad wasn't real demonstrative when I was growing up, (He got better!) but there was never any doubt what he was saying when he read this to me.

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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 moulder in dust away!

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I love you too, Daddy!

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