Love-Songs of Childhood | Page 3

the?author, and additional characters may be used to?indicate hypertext links; OR
[*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent form by the program that displays the etext (as is the case, for instance, with most word processors); OR
[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC or other equivalent proprietary form).
[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
"Small Print!" statement.
[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
net profits you derive calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon University" within the 60 days following each?date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".
We are planning on making some changes in our donation structure in 2000, so you might want to email me, [email protected] beforehand.
*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
Love-Songs of Childhood
by Eugene Field
To Mrs. Belle Angler
Dearest Aunt:
Many years ago you used to rock me to sleep, cradling me in your arms and singing me petty songs. Surely you have not forgotten that time, and I recall it with tenderness. You were very?beautiful then. But you are more beautiful now; for, in the years that have come and gone since then, the joys and the sorrows of maternity have impressed their saintly grace upon the dear face I used to kiss, and have made your gentle heart gentler still.
Beloved lady, in memory of years to be recalled only in thought, and in token of my gratitude and affection, I bring you these little love-songs, and reverently I lay them at your feet.
Eugene Field?Chicago, November 1, 1894
THE LOVE-SONGS
By Eugene Field
THE ROCK-A-BY LADY?"BOOH"!?GARDEN AND CRADLE?THE NIGHT WIND?KISSING TIME?JEST 'FORE CHRISTMAS?BEARD AND BABY?THE DINKEY-BIRD?THE DRUM?THE DEAD BABE?THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD?So, so, ROCK-A-BY SO!?THE SONG OF LUDDY-DUD?THE DUEL?GOOD-CHILDREN STREET?THE DELECTABLE BALLAD OF THE WALLER LOT?THE STORK?THE BOTTLE TREE?GOOGLY-GOO?THE BENCH-LEGGED FYCE?LITTLE MISS BRAG?THE HUMMING TOP?LADY BUTTON-EYES?THE RIDE TO BUMPVILLE?THE BROOK?PICNIC-TIME?SHUFFLE-SHOON AND AMBER-LOCKS?THE SHUT-EYE TRAIN?LITTLE-OH-DEAR?THE FLY-AWAY HORSE?SWING HIGH AND SWING LOW?WHEN I WAS A BOY?AT PLAY?A VALENTINE?LITTLE ALL-ALONEY?SEEIN' THINGS?THE CUNNIN' LITTLE THING?THE DOLL'S WOOING?INSCRIPTION FOR MY LITTLE SON'S SILVER PLATE?FISHERMAN JIM'S KIDS?"FIDDLE-DEE-DEE"?OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY
THE ROCK-A-BY LADY
The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street?Comes stealing; comes creeping;?The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,?And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet -?She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,?When she findeth you sleeping!
There is one little dream of a beautiful drum -?"Rub-a-dub!" it goeth;?There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,?And lo! thick and fast the other dreams come?Of popguns that bang, and tin tops that hum,?And a trumpet that bloweth!
And dollies peep out of those wee little dreams?With laughter and singing;?And boats go a-floating on silvery streams,?And the stars peek-a-boo with their own misty gleams,?And up, up, and up, where the Mother Moon beams,?The fairies go winging!
Would you dream all these dreams that are tiny and fleet??They'll come to you sleeping;?So shut the two eyes that are weary, my sweet,?For the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street,?With poppies that hang from her head to her feet,?Comes stealing; comes creeping.
"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; And then his under lip came out and farther out it came,?Till mamma and the nurse agreed it was a "cruel shame" -?But now what does that same wee, toddling, lisping baby do?But laugh and kick his little heels when I say "Booh!"
He laughs and kicks his little heels in rapturous glee, and then In shrill, despotic treble bids me "do it all aden!"?And I - of course I do it; for, as his progenitor,?It is such pretty, pleasant play as this that I am for!?And it is, oh, such fun I and sure that we shall rue?The time when we are both too old to play the game "Booh!"
GARDEN AND CRADLE
When our babe he