Eugene Field

Sept. 2, 1850 - Nov. 4, 1895


Lollyby, Lolly, Lollyby

by Eugene Field

Last night, whiles that the curfew bell ben ringing,
I heard a moder to her dearie singing
Lollyby, lolly, lollyby;
And presently that chylde did cease hys weeping,
And on his moder's breast did fall a-sleeping
To lolly, lolly, lollyby.

Faire ben the chylde unto his moder clinging,
But fairer yet the moder's gentle singing --
Lollyby, lolly, lollyby;
And angels came and kisst the dearie smiling
In dreems while him hys moder ben beguiling
With lolly, lolly, lollyby.

Then to my harte saies I: Oh, that thy beating
Colde be assuaged by some sweete voice repeating
'Lollyby, lolly, lollyby';
That like this lyttel chylde I, too, ben sleeping
With plaisaunt phantasies about me creeping,
To 'lolly, lolly, lollyby'!

Some time -- mayhap when curfew bells are ringing --
A weary harte shall heare straunge voices singing
Lollyby, lolly, lollyby;
Some time, mayhap, with Chryst's love round me streaming,
I shall be lulled into eternal dreeming,
With lolly, lolly, lollyby.


With Trumpet And Drum
Copyright 1892, by Mary French Field
New York, Charles Scribner's Sons
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