I admit that I do think of the medicine, but my next thought upon hearing [name]Allegra[/name] is ALWAYS this poem by [name]Henry[/name] Wadsworth [name]Longfellow[/name] that you might like:
“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 [name]Alice[/name], and laughing [name]Allegra[/name],
And [name]Edith[/name] 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,
[name]Till[/name] I think of the [name]Bishop[/name] of Bingen
In his Mouse-[name]Tower[/name] on the Rhine!
[name]Do[/name] you think, o blue-eyed banditi,
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,
[name]Till[/name] the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!