Eugene Field

(2 September 1850 - 4 November 1895 / St Louis / Missouri / United States)

Eugene Field Poems

81. Fisherman Jim's Kids 1/1/2004
82. Francois Villon 4/9/2010
83. Ganderfeather's Gift 3/31/2012
84. Garden And Cradle 1/1/2004
85. Gold And Love For Dearie 3/31/2012
86. Good-Bye--God Bless You! 1/1/2004
87. Good-Children Street 1/1/2004
88. Googly-Go0 1/1/2004
89. Guess 4/9/2010
90. Heine's "Widow Or Daughter?" 1/1/2004
91. Hi-Spy 1/1/2004
92. Horace And Lydia Reconciled 1/1/2004
93. Horace I, 22. 4/9/2010
94. Horace I, 31. 4/9/2010
95. Horace I, 4. 4/9/2010
96. Horace Ii, 13. 4/9/2010
97. Horace Ii, 3. 4/9/2010
98. Horace Iii. 13 1/1/2004
99. Horace To His Lute 4/9/2010
100. Horace To Maecenas 4/9/2010
101. Horace To Melpomene 1/1/2004
102. Horace To Phyllis 1/1/2004
103. Horace To Pyrrha 1/1/2004
104. Horatian Lyrics Odes I, 11. 4/9/2010
105. Horatian Lyrics Odes I, 23. 4/9/2010
106. How Salty Win Out 4/9/2010
107. Hugo's "Flower To Butterfly" 1/1/2004
108. Hugo's "Pool In The Forest" 1/1/2004
109. Hymn 1/1/2004
110. In Flanders 1/1/2004
111. In New Orleans 4/9/2010
112. In Praise Of Contentment 4/9/2010
113. In The Firelight 1/1/2004
114. In The Springtime 4/9/2010
115. Inscription For My Little Son's Silver Plate 1/1/2004
116. It Is The Printer's Fault 4/9/2010
117. Japanese Lullaby 1/1/2004
118. Jennie 4/9/2010
119. Jessie 1/1/2004
120. Jest 'Fore Christmas 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Eugene Field

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 ...

Read the full of Little Boy Blue

"Booh!"

On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap,
And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse's lap,
In some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face,
And cautiously and quietly I move about the place;
Then, with a cry, I suddenly expose my face to view,
And you should hear him laugh and crow when I say "Booh"!

Sometimes the rascal tries to make believe that he is scared,
And really, when I first began, he stared, and stared, and stared;

[Hata Bildir]