One asketh:
Eugene Field
When Father Time swings round his scythe,
Prudence Mears hath an old blue plate
O mother-my-love, if you'll give me your hand,
I count my treasures o'er with care.--
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
There's a dear little home in Good-Children street -
Sweet, bide with me and let my love
'T is when the lark goes soaring
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way
One night a tiny dewdrop fell
Grim is the face that looks into the night
It's June ag'in, an' in my soul I feel the fillin' joy
Achievin' sech distinction with his moddel tabble dote
I'd not complain of Sister Jane, for she was good and kind,
"Sweetheart, take this," a soldier said,
Last night, my darling, as you slept,
Star of the East, that long ago
Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles
Speakin' of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce
Keep me, I pray, in wisdom's way
A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land -
Who should come up the road one day
What conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know,
Up yonder in Buena Park
Two dreams came down to earth one night
Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse -
It's when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks,
Last night the Stork came stalking,
Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
It is very aggravating
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night