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Eugene Field's Poetry, by title

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  • On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap,
    And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse's lap,
    20 lines, 2 comments
  • There is a certain Yankee phrase
      I always have revered,
    34 lines
  • Last night, whiles that the curfew bell ben ringing,
    I heard a moder to her dearie singing
    27 lines, 1 comment
  • JEST as atween the awk'ard lines a hand we love has penn'd
      Appears a meanin' hid from other eyes,
    25 lines
  • Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken,
    Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken;
    11 lines
  • Republicans of differing views
        Are pro or con protection;
    24 lines
  • I'm weary of this weather and I hanker for the ways
    Which people read of in the psalms and preachers paraphrase--
    86 lines
  • Come, brothers, share the fellowship
      We celebrate to-night;
    37 lines
  • Her nature is the sea's, that smiles to-night
      A radiant maiden in the moon's soft light;
    5 lines
  • The image of the moon at night
      All trembling in the ocean lies,
    8 lines
  • The stars are twinkling in the skies,
      The earth is lost in slumbers deep;
    31 lines
  • Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name;
    Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, in Heaven the same;
    7 lines, 1 comment
  • How happens it, my cruel miss,
      You're always giving me the mitten?
    13 lines
  • (LYRIC INTERMEZZO)
    There fell a star from realms above--
    20 lines
  • Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken,
    Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken;
    11 lines
  • Why, Mistress Chloe, do you bother
      With prattlings and with vain ado
    13 lines
  • Since Chloe is so monstrous fair,
    With such an eye and such an air,
    13 lines
  • I cannot eat my porridge,
      I weary of my play;
    52 lines
  • Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awaye
    Ye poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a merrie May,
    181 lines
  • If our own life is the life of a flower
        (And that's what some sages are thinking),
    25 lines
  • See, Thaliarch mine, how, white with snow,
      Soracte mocks the sullen sky;
    28 lines
  • One asketh:
    "Tell me, Myrson, tell me true:
    33 lines
  • You ask me, friend,
          Why I don't send
    33 lines
  • Your gran'ma, in her youth, was quite
      As blithe a little maid as you.
    34 lines, 1 comment
  • Accept, dear girl, this little token,
    And if between the lines you seek,
    28 lines
  • When Father Time swings round his scythe,
      Entomb me 'neath the bounteous vine,
    23 lines
  • My books are on their shelves again
    And clouds lie low with mist and rain.
    89 lines
  • Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,--
    Lie in my arms and dinna greit;
    32 lines
  • Krinken was a little child,—
    It was summer when he smiled.
    59 lines
  • The Northland reared his hoary head
      And spied the Southland leagues away—
    48 lines
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