Poems of Childhood · Eugene Field
AT PLAY
Play that you are mother dear,
And play that papa is your beau;
Play that we sit in the corner here,
Just as we used to, long ago.
Playing so, we lovers two
Are just as happy as we can be,
And I’ll say “I love you” to you,
And you say “I love you” to me!
“I love you” we both shall say,
All in earnest and all in play.
Or, play that you are that other one
That some time came, and went away;
And play that the light of years agone
Stole into my heart again to-day!
Playing that you are the one I knew
In the days that never again may be,
I’ll say “I love you” to you,
And you say “I love you” to me!
“I love you!” my heart shall say
To the ghost of the past come back to-day!
Or, play that you sought this nestling-place
For your own sweet self, with that dual guise
Of your pretty mother in your face
And the look of that other in your eyes!
So the dear old loves shall live anew
As I hold my darling on my knee,
And I’ll say “I love you” to you,
And you say “I love you” to me!
Oh, many a strange, true thing we say
And do when we pretend to play!
A VALENTINE
Go, Cupid, and my sweetheart tell
I love her well.
Yes, though she tramples on my heart
And rends that bleeding thing apart;
And though she rolls a scornful eye
On doting me when I go by;
And though she scouts at everything
As tribute unto her I bring--
Apple, banana, caramel--
Haste, Cupid, to my love and tell,
In spite of all, I love her well!
And further say I have a sled
Cushioned in blue and painted red!
The groceryman has promised I
Can “hitch” whenever he goes by--
Go, tell her that, and, furthermore,
Apprise my sweetheart that a score
Of other little girls implore
The boon of riding on that sled
Painted and hitched, as aforesaid;--
And tell her, Cupid, only she
Shall ride upon that sled with me!
Tell her this all, and further tell
I love her well.
LITTLE ALL-ALONEY
Little All-Aloney’s feet
Pitter-patter in the hall,
And his mother runs to meet
And to kiss her toddling sweet,
Ere perchance he fall.
He is, oh, so weak and small!
Yet what danger shall he fear
When his mother hovereth near,
And he hears her cheering call:
“All-Aloney”?
Little All-Aloney’s face
It is all aglow with glee,
As around that romping-place
At a terrifying pace
Lungeth, plungeth he!
And that hero seems to be
All unconscious of our cheers--
Only one dear voice he hears
Calling reassuringly:
“All-Aloney!”
Though his legs bend with their load,
Though his feet they seem so small
That you cannot help forebode
Some disastrous episode
In that noisy hall,
Neither threatening bump nor fall
Little All-Aloney fears,
But with sweet bravado steers
Whither comes that cheery call:
“All-Aloney!”
Ah, that in the years to come,
When he shares of Sorrow’s store,--
When his feet are chill and numb,
When his cross is burdensome,
And his heart is sore:
Would that he could hear once more
The gentle voice he used to hear--
Divine with mother love and cheer--
Calling from yonder spirit shore:
“All, all alone!”
THE CUNNIN’ LITTLE THING
When baby wakes of mornings,
Then it’s wake, ye people all!
For another day
Of song and play
Has come at our darling’s call!
And, till she gets her dinner,
She makes the welkin ring,
And she _won’t_ keep still till she’s had her fill
The cunnin’ little thing!
When baby goes a-walking,
Oh, how her paddies fly!
For that’s the way
The babies say
To other folk “by-by”;
The trees bend down to kiss her,
And the birds in rapture sing,
As there she stands and waves her hands--
The cunnin’ little thing!
When baby goes a-rocking
In her bed at close of day,
At hide-and-seek
On her dainty cheek
The dreams and the dimples play;
Then it’s sleep in the tender kisses
The guardian angels bring
From the Far Above to my sweetest love--
You cunnin’ little thing!
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