Search results
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.
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.
Longfellow’s ‘The Children’s Hour’ captures a father’s playful love, turning a daily moment into an adventure with his children. Read Poem.
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.
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.
May 13, 2011 · Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807 (Portland) – 1882 (Cambridge) Childhood. Humorous. Love. Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupation, That is know as the children's hour. I hear in the chamber above me.
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,
Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to low… Comes a pause in the day’s occupat… That is known as the Children’s H… I hear in the chamber above me
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 ...
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.
