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Eugene Field - Selected Works

Eugene Field. A Short Biography
The Sugar-Plum Tree
Wynken, Blynken, & Nod
The Duel
The Fly Away Horse
Little Boy Blue
Pittypat and Tippytoe

 

Eugene Field - A Short Biography

Born in St Louis, Missouri, Sept. 2, 1850 and died Nov. 4, 1895.

Eugene Field was an American writer, poet, and journalist best known for poetry for children, gaining for him the title, "The Child's Poet." He first started publishing poetry on the side in 1879, when his book Christian Treasures appeared. Over a dozen more volumes followed, and he became well known for his light-hearted poems for children; perhaps the best known is His children’s poems include “Wynken, Blynken, and Nod,” “The Sugar-Plum Tree”, “The Duel” and “Little Boy Blue.” He married Julia Comstock and had eight children. Two died as babies, another died as a little boy. The remaining five grew up and had long lives.

After working on several Midwestern newspapers, in 1883 he became a columnist for the Chicago Daily News (later the Record). He became known for articles written in a light, humorous, gossipy style, some of which were reprinted by other newspapers out of state. In 1883 to Chicago, Illinois where he write a humorous newspaper column for the Chicago Daily News. His urbane and witty column, “Sharps and Flats,” which appeared until his death, was a potpourri of whimsical humor,
commentary on politics and personalities, and children’s verse. Field soon rose to become city editor of the Gazette. His books include A Little Book of Western Verse (1889) and Echoes from the Sabine Farm (with his brother Roswell Martin Field, 1892).

Field died in Chicago at the age of 45. He is buried in the churchyard of the Church of the Holy Comforter in Kenilworth, Illinois. His boyhood home in St. Louis is a museum that has a collection of toys and dolls. Several of his poems were set to music with commercial success. There is a memorial to him in Lincoln Park in Chicago.

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The Sugar-Plum Tree

Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
T'is a marvel of great renown!
It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)
That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.

When you've got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;
The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
And a gingerbread dog prowls below---
And this is the way you contrive to get at
Those sugar-plums tempting you so:

You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
And he barks with such terrible zest
That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,
As her swelling proportions attest.
And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around
From this leafy limb unto that,
And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground---
Hurrah for that chocolate cat!

There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
With stripings of scarlet or gold,
And you carry away of the treasure that rains
As much as your apron can hold!
So come, little child, cuddle closer to me
In your dainty white nightcap and gown,
And I 'll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.

Eugene Field (1850-1895)

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Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe-
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we?"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
 
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea-
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish-
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
 
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam-
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea-
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
 
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is the wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
 
- Eugene Field (1850-1895)
 

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The Dual

The gingham dog and the calico cat
Side by side on the table sat;
'T'was half-past twelve and (what do you think!)
Nor one nor t'other had slept a wink!
The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate
Appeared to know as sure as fate
There was going to be a terrible spat.
(I wasn't there; I simply state
What was told to me by the Chinese plate!)
 
The gingham dog went "bow-wow-wow!"
And the calico cat replied "mee-ow!"
The air was littered, an hour or so,
With bits of gingham and calico,
While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place
Up with its hands before its face
For it always dreaded a family row!
(Now mind: I'm only telling you
What the old Dutch clock declares is true!)
 
The Chinese plate looked very blue,
And wailed, "Oh, dear! What shall we do!"
But the gingham dog and the calico cat
Wallowed this way and tumbled that,
Employing every tooth and claw
In the awfullest way you ever saw-
And, oh! How the gingham and calico flew!
(Don't fancy I exaggerate-
I got my news from the Chinese plate!)
 
Next morning, where the two had sat
They found no trace of dog or cat;
And some folks think unto this day
That burglars stole that pair away!
But the truth about the cat and pup
Is this: They ate each other up!
Now what do you really think of that!
(The old Dutch clock it told me so,
And that is how I came to know.)
 
- Eugene Field (1850-1895)

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The Fly Away Horse

Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse-
Perhaps you have seen him before;
Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept
Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.
For it's only at night, when the stars twinkle bright,
That the Fly-Away Horse, with a neigh
And a pull at his rein and a toss of his mane,
Is up on his heels and away!
The moon in the sky,
As he gallopeth by,
Cries: "Oh! What a marvelous sight!"
And the Stars in dismay
Hide their faces away
In the lap of old Grandmother Night.
 
It is yonder, out yonder, the Fly-Away Horse
Speedeth ever and ever away-
Over meadows and lane, over mountains and plains,
Over streamlets that sing at their play;
And over the sea like a ghost sweepeth he,
While the ships they go sailing below,
And he speedeth so fast that the men on the mast
Adjudge him some portent of woe.
"What ho, there!" they cry,
As he flourishes by
With a whisk of his beautiful tail;
And the fish in the sea
Are as scared as can be,
From the nautilus up to the whale!
 
And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands
You little folk dream of at night-
Where candy-trees grow, and honey-brooks flow,
And corn-fields with popcorn are white;
And the beasts in the wood are ever so good
To children who visit them there-
What glory astride of a lion to ride,
Or to wrestle around with a bear!
The monkeys, they say:
"Come on, let us play,"
And they frisk in the coconut-trees:
While the parrots, that cling
To the peanut-vines sing
Or converse with comparative ease!
 
Off! scamper to bed- you shall ride him to-night!
For, as soon as you've fallen asleep,
With a jubilant neigh he shall bear you away
Over forest and hillside and deep!
But tell us, my dear, all you see and you hear
In those beautiful lands over there,
Where the Fly-Away Horse wings his far-away course
With the wee one consigned to his care.
Then grandma will cry
In amazement: "Oh, my!"
And she'll think it could never be so.
And only we two
Shall know it is true-
You and I, little precious! shall know!
 
- Eugene Field (1850-1895)

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Little Boy Blue

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and staunch he stands;
The little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket moulds 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 dreamt of the pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue-
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!
 
Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
Since he kissed them and put them there.
 
- Eugene Field (1850-1895)

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Pittypat and Tippytoe

All day long they come and go--
Pittypat and Tippytoe;
Footprints up and down the hall,
Playthings scattered on the floor,
Finger-marks along the wall,
Tell-tale smudges on the door--
By these presents you shall know
Pittypat and Tippytoe
 
How they riot at their play!
And a dozen times a day
In they troop, demanding bread--
Only buttered bread will do,
And the butter must be spread
Inches thick with sugar too!
And I never can say, "No,
Pittypat and Tippytoe!"
 
Sometimes there are griefs to soothe,
Sometimes ruffled brows to smooth;
For (I much regret to say)
Tippytoe and Pittypat
Sometimes interrupt their play
With an internecine spat;
Fie, for shame! to quarrel so--
Pittypat and Tippytoe!
 
Oh the thousand worrying things
Every day recurrent brings!
Hands to scrub and hair to brush,
Search for playthings gone amiss,
Many a wee complaint to hush,
Many a little bump to kiss;
Life seems one vain, fleeting show
To Pittypat and Tippytoe!
 
And when day is at an end,
There are little duds to mend;
Little frocks are strangely torn,
Little shoes great holes reveal,
Little hose, but one day worn,
Rudely yawn at toe and heel!
Who but you could work such woe,
Pittypat and Tippytoe!
 
But when comes this thought to me:
"Some there are that childless be,"
Stealing to their little beds,
With a love I cannot speak,
Tenderly I stroke their heads---
Fondly kiss each velvet cheek.
God help those who do not know
A Pittypat or Tippytoe!
 
On the floor and down the hall,
Rudely smutched upon the wall,
There are proofs in every kind
Of the havoc they have wrought,
And upon my heart you'd find
Just such trade-marks, if you sought; Oh, how
glad I am 'tis so, Pittypat and Tippytoe!
 
 
- Eugene Field (1850-1895)

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Nursery rhymes-Jack and Jill,roses are red,deedle deedle dumpling,twinkle twinkle little star,hey diddle diddle,peter peter pumpkin eater,baa baa black sheep,little boy blue,roses are red,daffy down dilly, ride a cock horse, bow wow wow, mary’s lamb,star light star bright,jack sprat. The tale of custard the dragon,in a faraway land, in a far away country,the blind men and the elephant,the secret place, names,the birthday child,the mountain and the squirrel,the birthday child,dandelion,blue flowers,a summer morning,the swallow,rain in summer,pussy willows,written in March,prairie spring, Ralph Waldo Emerson-the mountain and the squirrel,John Godfrey Saxe-the blind men and the elephant,Ogden Nash-custard the dragon,Dorothy Aldis-the secret place,names,Rose Fyleman-the birthday child,Hilda Conkling-Dandelion,Rachel Field-blue flowers, a summer morning, Christina Rosetti-fly away fly away,the swallow,Henry Wadsworth Longfellow-rain in summer,Sarah Lefferts-pussy willows,William Wordsworth-written in March,Edwina Fallis-prairie spring,Robert Frost-stopping by woods,Japanese Haiku-daybreak in summer,Japanese Haiku-the sunflower,Japanese Haiku-chums,Japanese Haiku-breezes,Japanese Haiku-daffodils,Japanese Haiku-cloud shadows,Japanese Haiku-the rains of spring.