"You'd scarce expect one of my age To speak in public on the stage; And if I chance to fall below Demosthenes or Cicero, Don't view me with a critic's eye, But pass my imperfections by. Large streams from little fountains flow, Tall oaks from little acorns grow."

"O Time! whose verdicts mock our own, The only righteous judge art thou!"

"No dream his life was—but a fight! Could any Beatrice see A lover in that anchorite?"

"Sorrow and scarlet leaf, Sad thoughts and sunny weather: Ah me, this glory and this grief Agree not well together!"

"A Song for September, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)."

"On a Bust of Dante, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)."

"When the night-wind bewaileth the fall of the year, And sweeps from the forest the leaves that are sere; I wake from my slumber and list to the roar And it saith to my spirit, "No more, never more!""

"The cold blast at the casement beats; The window-panes are white; The snow whirls through the empty streets; It is a dreary night!"

"A life on the ocean wave! A home on the rolling deep, Where the scattered waters rave, And the winds their revels keep! Like an eagle caged I pine On this dull unchanging shore: Oh give me the flashing brine, The spray and the tempest's roar!"

"Tying her bonnet under her chin, She tied her raven ringlets in; But not alone in the silken snare Did she catch her lovely floating hair, For, tying her bonnet under her chin, She tied a young man’s heart within."

"So sweet, so sweet, the roses in their blowing, So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see; So blithe and gay the humming-bird a-going From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee."

"Who knows the thoughts of a child?"

"They sat and combed their beautiful hair, Their long, bright tresses, one by one, As they laughed and talked in the chamber there, After the revel was done."

"Some day, some day of days, threading the street, With idle, heedless pace, Unlooking for such grace, I shall behold your face! Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet."

"How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view."

"Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well."

"The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well."

"But the gray and the cold are haunted By a beauty akin to pain,— By the sense of a something wanted, That will never come again."

"Oh! faint delicious spring-time violet, Thine odor, like a key, Turns noiselessly in memory's wards to let A thought of sorrow free."

"They only the victory win, Who have fought the good fight, and have vanquished the demon that tempts us within; Who have held to their faith unseduced by the prize that the world holds on high; Who have dared for a high cause to suffer, resist, fight,—if need be, to die."

"Of every noble work the silent part is best, Of all expression that which can not be expressed."

"Ah, me! the vision has vanished— The music has died away!"

"I sing the hymn of the conquered, who fell in the battle of life,— The hymn of the wounded, the beaten, who died overwhelmed in the strife; Not the jubilant song of the victors, for whom the resounding acclaim Of nations was lifted in chorus, whose brows wore the chaplet of fame, But the hymn of the low and the humble, the weary, the broken in heart, Who strove and who failed, acting bravely a silent and desperate part."

"Strive not to say the whole! The Poet, in his Art, Must intimate the whole, and say the smallest part."

"And all but their faith overthrown."

"I haf von funny leedle poy Vot comes schust to mine knee; Der queerest schap, der createst rogue, As ever you dit see. He runs und schumps and schmashes dings In all barts off der house: But vot off dot? He vas mine son, Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss."

"Tis plain to me As A B C, My dear friend, Mr. Neff!" "Oh, yes! but then," Says Mr. N , "You know I'm D E F!"

"If an S and an I and an O and a U With an X at the end spell Su; And an E and a Y and an E spell I, Pray what is a speller to do? Then, if also an S and an I and a G And an HED spell side, There's nothing much left for a speller to do But to go commit siouxeyesighed."

"Oh! somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing and somewhere children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has "struck out.""

"There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place, There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face, And when responding to the cheers he lightly of his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt, 't was Casey at the bat."

""Strike one" the Umpire said.From the bleachers black with people there rose a sullen roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore, "Kill him! Kill the Umpire!" shouted someone from the stand — And it's likely they'd have done it had not Casey raised his hand."

"We have reached the age, those of us to whom fortune has assigned a post in life's struggle, when, beaten and smashed and biffed by the lashings of the dragon's tail, we begin to appreciate that the old man was not such a damned fool after all. We saw our parents wrestling with that same dragon, and we thought, though we never spoke the thought aloud, 'Why don't he hit him on the head?' Alas, comrades, we know now. We have hit the dragon on the head and we have seen the dragon smile."

"A place of dream, the Holy Land Hangs midway between earth and heaven."

"Ah, happy world, where all things live Creatures of one great law, indeed; Bound by strong roots, the splendid flower,— Swept by great seas, the drifting seed!"

"Beauty vanishes like a vapor, Preach the men of musty morals."

"He is one of those people to whom you must allow moods,—when their sun shines, dance,—and when their vapors rise, sit in the shadow."

"The awful phantom of the hungry poor."

"Like Mark Twain, Eugene Field was an ardent dissenter against the prevailing social order in private conversation, although not much of that dissent was found in his writings-nor in Twain's. Both of those men were born too soon, or perhaps were just naturally cautious of being combative in public. They were cast by Fate into a period which we know today as the era of rugged individualism-a nation marching behind a banner bearing the legend: "Self conquers all!" Meaning, of course, that it's up to you alone-a doctrine which practically everybody across the land took for granted, and one which hangs on in spite of its falsity. Yet Field and Twain occasionally exhibited signs of doubt and wrote satirical comment on American life. Field poked fun at the shallow culture of the Chicago pork packers, and Mark Twain indulged in brief outbursts of anarchistic protest. None of their onsets, however, was incisive enough to make the big financiers question their loyalty to the existing economic and social system."

"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."

"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!"

"Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill! Mighty glad I ain't a girl—ruther be a boy, Without them sashes, curls, an' things that 's worn by Fauntleroy! Love to chawnk green apples an' go swimmin' in the lake— Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache! 'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me, But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!"

"It always was the biggest fish I caught that got away."

"The best of all physicians Is apple pie and cheese!"

"When I demanded of my friend what viands he preferred, He quoth: "A large cold bottle, and a small hot bird!""

"I feel a sort of yearnin' 'nd a chokin' in my throat When I think of Red Hoss Mountain 'nd of Casey's tabble dote!"

"He could whip his weight in wildcats."

"Oh, you who've been a-fishing will indorse me when I say That it always is the biggest fish you catch that gets away!"

"Human thought is like a monstrous pendulum: it keeps swinging from one extreme to the other. Within the compass of five generations we find the Puritan first an uncompromising believer in demonology and magic, and then a scoffer at everything involving the play of fancy."

"Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe— Sailed on a river of crystal light, Into a sea of dew."

"The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and stanch he stands; And 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."