Eugene Field

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

Eugene Field Poems

41. The Convalescent Gripster 4/9/2010
42. An Eclogue From Virgil 4/9/2010
43. Der Mann Im Keller 1/1/2004
44. The Bibliomaniac's's Prayer 1/1/2004
45. The Broken Ring 4/9/2010
46. The Bottle And The Bird 4/9/2010
47. The Brook 1/1/2004
48. Boccaccio 4/9/2010
49. It Is The Printer's Fault 4/9/2010
50. Nightfall In Dordrecht 4/9/2010
51. Marcus Varro 4/9/2010
52. The Dying Year 4/9/2010
53. Horace To Maecenas 4/9/2010
54. Horatian Lyrics Odes I, 11. 4/9/2010
55. To A Usurper 1/1/2004
56. Hymn 1/1/2004
57. Contentment 4/9/2010
58. When The Poet Came 4/9/2010
59. The Song Of Luddy-Dud 1/1/2004
60. The Humming Top 1/1/2004
61. To A Soubrette 1/1/2004
62. The Stoddards 1/1/2004
63. To Albius Tibullus 4/9/2010
64. New-Year's Eve 4/9/2010
65. Alaskan Balladry, No.1 4/9/2010
66. Christmas Eve 4/9/2010
67. The Blue And Gray 4/9/2010
68. In The Springtime 4/9/2010
69. To De Witt Miller 4/9/2010
70. An Ode To Fortune 4/9/2010
71. Marthy's Younkit 1/1/2004
72. By My Sweetheart 1/1/2004
73. Horace To Phyllis 1/1/2004
74. Love Song--Heine 1/1/2004
75. The Preference Declared 4/9/2010
76. To His Lute 4/9/2010
77. To Chloe 4/9/2010
78. The Perpetual Wooing 4/9/2010
79. Mortality 4/9/2010
80. The Jaffa And Jerusalem Railway 1/1/2004

Comments about Eugene Field

  • Nancy Morse (1/4/2014 7:43:00 AM)

    can you help me? I selected a really nice password and typed it in.
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    9 person liked.
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  • Rena Bradbury (10/26/2005 6:03:00 PM)

    My grandfather read Eugene Field to me when I was younger. He is by far my favorite poet. I have noticed however that there are a few type-o's in some of them. You have even left out a compleat verse in 'Pittypat and Tippytoe'. I am wondering if you did this because of its refference to God? Even though, you have done a wonderful thing here. Thank you.

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

Pan Liveth

They told me once that Pan was dead,
And so, in sooth, I thought him;
For vainly where the streamlets led
Through flowery meads I sought him--
Nor in his dewy pasture bed
Nor in the grove I caught him.
"Tell me," 'twas so my clamor ran--
"Tell me, oh, where is Pan?"

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