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 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 down into the dungeons
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!
Commentary
Note: Published in The Atlantic Monthly; September 1860.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, American poet, 1807-1882. A narrative poet in the grand tradition; his poems are full of images, atmosphere, suspense, and emotion. He is identified with American history and legend: his most well-known works include poems The Song of Hiawatha, The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere, The Courtship of Miles Standish. I always picture the illustrations of N.C. Wyeth when I read these poems. During his lifetime he was popular, widely read and celebrated, sometimes to the disdain of more literary poets and critics.
This is one of the first poems I ever remember hearing. I think it was in a book of poetry that my mother would occasionally read from to my sisters and me. More than the words themselves, it’s the rhythm and pace of it that sends me back in time – the poetry equivalent of Proust’s madeleine. I always loved the images of the little girls sneaking down the stairs, and the exotic idea of the “Mouse-Tower” on the Rhine. And I always thought that the last stanza was oddly adult and melancholy for a children’s poem, but now, from an adult’s perspective, it has a different meaning.
— Matthew
Here’s a link to some of Wyeth’s illustrations:
http://www.library.pitt.edu/libraries/is/enroom/illustrators/wyeth2.htm
[Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any of his “Courtship of Miles Standish” illustrations, but those should convey the general flavour - martin]
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From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.
Mallika Chellappa · 25 November 2003
Lovely poem, but always associated, in my mind, with the Mad Magazine illustrations.
Mad used to pick up classics and parody them or illustrate them without changing the text -
another to receive this treatment is “The Raven” and many more I cannot recollect at this time.
The parody on Hiawatha was a barfly called
Melvin Watha, the metre was perfect.
Lemme see
“At the bar called Gitchy Goomy
Where they serve the giggle water
Way up town on Twenty second
By the restaurant Nokomis
There the barfly Melvin Watha
..
..
Falls across the bar unconscious”.
Mallika
Chellappa Mallika (Mallika) · 30 November 2003
A Lovely poem, but always associated, in my mind, with the Mad Magazine illustrations.
Mad used to pick up classics and parody them or illustrate them without changing the text;
another to receive this treatment is “The Raven”, and many more I cannot recollect at this time. The parody on Hiawatha was about a barfly called Melvin Watha, whose friends greeted him “Hiya, Watha” The metre was perfect!
Lemme see
“At the bar called Gitchy Goomy
Where they serve the giggle water
Way up town on Twenty second
By the restaurant Nokomis
There the barfly Melvin Watha
..
..
..
Falls across the bar unconscious”.
Mallika
DAVIDL SMITH · 27 July 2004
Hi Mallika …
I have no idea how old this posting might be, but we share an interest in “Melvin Watha”.
I would like to buy the MAD issue that contains this gem, or a xerox of the pages, or even the text of the poem.
My feeble brain remembers
1 - references to Feldman’s bagel factory
2 - Melvin was a shoe clerk
3 - Not much more
Help me if you can. Thanks.
Dave
Andrew J Melchert · 17 July 2007
I used to have the issue where this marvelous parody was published, and I, too have been looking for it for about 30 years.
The last two lines:
keeps on boozing, gets more sullen,
falls across the bar unconscious.
Andy M
Richmond, VA