Eugene Field Poems
|281.||Wine, Women, And Song||4/9/2010|
|283.||With Brutus In St. Jo||1/1/2004|
|284.||With Trumpet And Drum||1/1/2004|
|285.||With Two Spoons For Two Spoons||1/1/2004|
|286.||Wynken, Blynken, And Nod||1/20/2003|
Little Boy Blue
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamed of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,--
Oh, the years are many, the ...
In The Firelight
The fire upon the hearth is low,
And there is stillness everywhere,
While like winged spirits, here and there,
The firelight shadows fluttering go.
And as the shadows round me creep,
A childish treble breaks the gloom,
And softly from a further room
Comes, "Now I lay me down to sleep."