four o'clock
I tinkle all the candlesticks Upon the mantelpiece : They wave long after I have gone , And never seem to cease . The drawing-room is full of shawls , With footstools everywhere , And prickly cushions stuck upright Upon each bristly chair . I 'm glad when I go home again Into the shining lamps And comfortable sound of streets , And see my book of stamps . -LSB- Illustration : DON QUIXOTE -RSB- -LSB- Illustration : DON QUIXOTE -RSB- THE clock is striking four o'clock , It is not time for tea . Although the night is marching up And I can hardly see . I 'm reading in the library In a most enormous chair ; The fire is just the very kind That makes you want to stare . I 'm looking at the largest book That ever yet was seen ; They say I shall not understand This tale till I 'm fourteen .