The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-11-16
EUGENE FIELDS VERSE.
With Trumpe, and Drum,

With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
Marching like soldiers. the children come!
It's this way and that way they circle
My! but that music of theirs Is fine!
This way and that way, and after awhile
They march straight Into this heart OF
A sturdy old heart, but 1t has to succumb
TO the blare of that trumpet and beat OF
that drum!
Come ss'' on. little people, from cot and from
This ,, heart I'll, i hath welcome and room for
1t viii sing you Its songs and warm you
AS your dear little arms with my arms
intertWine;
1t win rock you away to the dreamland
above
Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of
And jollier still Is It bound to become
When you blow that big trumpet and beat
that red drum!
So come; though see not his dear little
And hear not his voice in this jubilant
I know he were happy to bid mo en-
His memory deep in my heart with
your play
All me! but love that is sweeter than
Holdeth my boy in Its keeping today!
And my heart it Is lonely--so, little folk.
come,
March in and make merry with trumpet
--:ll:-
Some Time.
Last night, my darling, as you slept
/ thought heard you sigh,
And to your crib / crept,
And watched space thereby;
/
For oh! love you So
You are too young to know 1t now,
But sometime you shall know!
Some time when, in "a darkened place
Where others come to weep,
Your eyes shall look upon face
Calm In eternal sleep:
The voiceless lips, the wrinkled brow,
The patient smile shall show
You are too young to know 1t now,
But some time you may know!
Look bacward then. into the years,
And see me here tonight
See. o my darling! how my tears
Are falling as l write;
And feel once more upon your brow
The kiss of long ago
You are too young to know 1t now,
But some time you shall know.
-:ll:-
Morse Lullaby.
The sky is dark and the hills are white
AS the storm king speeds from the north
And this is the song the storm king sings.
AS over the world his cloak he filings:
sleep, sleep, little one, sleep:"
He rustles his wings and gruftiy sings:
sleep, little one, Sleep"
On yonder mountain-side vine
Clings at the foot Of a mother pine;
The tree bends over the trembling thing,
And only the vine can hear her sing:
"Slppp. qlepD little oua
What shall YOU fear when / am here?
Sleep, little one, Sleep"
The king may sing in his bitter flight,
The tree may Groom to the vine tonight,
But the little snowflake at my breast
Liketh the song sing the best
Sleep. sleep, little one. sleep;
Weary thou art, anext my heart
Sleep, little one, sleep.
-:ll:-
At tho Door.
I thought myself indeed secure,
So fast the door. SO firm the lock;
But, 10! he toddling comes to lure
MY parent ear with timOrOuS knock.
My heart were stone could 1t withstand
The sweetness OF my baby's plea
That timorous, baby knocking and
please let me in-it's only me-"
I threw aside the unfinished book,
Regardless of Its tempting charms,
And, opening wide 'he door, took
My laughing dal ing in my arms.
Who knows bat in Eternity,
i, like truant child, shall wait
The glories Of life to be.
Beyond the Heavenly Fathers gate?
And will that Heavenly Father heed
The truants supplicattng cry,
As at the outer door plead,
"'Tis I, o Father! only II"
Wants II Prt Strrigtt
He was saying all sorts Of soft things to
her.