Marthy’s Younkit (Eugene Field Poems)
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its wayEz if it waited for a child to jine it in ...
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its wayEz if it waited for a child to jine it in ...
The Blue Horizon wuz a mine us fellers all thought well uv,And there befell the episode I now perpose to ...
Willie and Bess, Georgie and May - Once, as these children were hard at play, An ...
This talk about the journalists that run the East is bosh,We've got a Western editor that's little, but, O gosh!He ...
Two dreams came down to earth one night From the realm of mist and dew;One was a dream of the ...
(THE TALE)Cometh the Wind from the garden, fragrant and full of sweet singing—Under my tree where I sit cometh the ...
Krinken was a little child,—It was summer when he smiled.Oft the hoary sea and grimStretched its white arms out to ...
The Northland reared his hoary head And spied the Southland leagues away—"Fairest of all fair brides," he said, "Be thou ...
There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" -A very provoking, ...
I'm thinking of the wooing That won my maiden heartWhen he--he came pursuing A love unused to art.Into the drowsy ...
One asketh:"Tell me, Myrson, tell me true:What's the season pleaseth you?Is it summer suits you best,When from harvest toil we ...
The ferny places gleam at morn, The dew drips off the leaves of corn; Along the brook a mist of ...
'T is when the lark goes soaringAnd the bee is at the bud,When lightly dancing zephyrsSing over field and flood;When ...
(ALASKAN BALLAD) The Northland reared his hoary head And spied the Southland leagues away-- "Fairest of all fair brides," he ...
(THE TALE) Cometh the Wind from the garden, fragrant and full of sweet singing-- Under my tree where I sit ...
Two dreams came down to earth one night From the realm of mist and dew; One was a dream of ...
The Blue Horizon wuz a mine us fellers all thought well uv, And there befell the episode I now perpose ...
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way Ez if it waited for a child to jine it ...
This talk about the journalists that run the East is bosh, We've got a Western editor that's little, but, O ...
'T is when the lark goes soaring And the bee is at the bud, When lightly dancing zephyrs Sing over ...
Krinken was a little child,-- It was summer when he smiled. Oft the hoary sea and grim Stretched its white ...
There once was a bird that lived up in a tree, And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" - A ...
One asketh: "Tell me, Myrson, tell me true: What's the season pleaseth you? Is it summer suits you best, When ...
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