09/22/2009 The Children's Hour
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!
We toured the Longfellow House in Cambridge, Massachusetts on Sunday and it was definitely one of the favorite parts of our Boston weekend. Not only was it the home of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, but it served as General Washington's headquarters during the British occupation of Boston for 9 months in 1775-1776. Yet another place around Boston that satisfies both your historical AND literary sweet tooth (does that make them sweet teeth? ). I mean, check out this door. This is the original door and key to the home. George Washington opened this door. He touched that actual key! And many years later Longfellow, Emerson, and Hawthorne passed through that same doorway. So cool.
The tour was only $3 and went every hour, which is why I'd rank this very highly in one's consideration of partaking in an organized tour during a Boston trip. Even if you aren't familiar with Longfellow or the historical story of the house- I think most people would enjoy this. Our tour guide looked so much like Luke Wilson. You can imagine Luke Wilson as a good tour guide, right? He was a great storyteller and magically minimized the distractions of a few people in our tour group who were just so strange! Jim said he almost text me mid-tour to say that he bet that they did each other's highlights. They were a pretty special bunch (we couldn't figure out if they were boyfriend-girlfriend or brother-sister. That ain't good).
Here is Longfellow's study (the only room he was allowed to decorate himself, we were informed! ). From there you step into the great room of the home, where the horrific accident occurred that caused Longfellow's wife's death in 1861. I consider this a fairly uplifting site, so I won't include the details. Thinking about this while standing there in those same rooms was really eerie. Afterwards, Longfellow was so grief-stricken that he remained home bound until 1868. The Cross of Snow references this picture of his wife 18 years after her death, and it still hangs over the fireplace in their bedroom. It was one of his only love poems. During those years, he began translating Dante's Divine Comedy from Italian into English. The man knew so many languages. Apparently by studying in a country for just one month he was able to learn and read the language. I consider this insane, especially when my tried and true "Hola. Me llamo Lindsay. Soy una consejera genetica de la Children's Memorial. Un momento por favor, voy a llamar un interprete" is the only thing I can muster from FOUR (count that 1-2-3-4) semesters of Spanish in college. Longfellow taught foreign languages (Italian, French, Spanish, etc) on the side to Harvard students at a time when students only learned Latin and Greek, and the beauty of it is that he proceeded with this without first getting Harvard's approval. I think I would have liked Longfellow, even if I would have failed his classes.
It took me almost all morning to regain my bearings after taking 2 days off work. Part of me feels it's sometimes not even worth it to miss work because of how much more you end up working before and after taking that time off! But then at the same moment you realize how much you'd miss if you never took these excursions. Why are we working this hard anyways? ?!
