Eugene Field

Sept. 2, 1850 - Nov. 4, 1895

 

Long Ago

by Eugene Field

I once knew all the birds that came
And nested in our orchard trees,
For every flower I had a name --
My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;
I knew where thrived in yonder glen
What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe --
Oh, I was very learned then,
But that was very long ago.

I knew the spot upon the hill
Where checkerberries could be found,
I knew the rushes near the mill
Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!
I knew the wood -- the very tree
Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,
And all the woods and crows knew me --
But that was very long ago.

And pining for the joys of youth,
I tread the old familiar spot
Only to learn this solemn truth:
I have forgotten, am forgot.
Yet here 's this youngster at my knee
Knows all the things I used to know;
To think I once was wise as he! --
But that was very long ago.

I know it's folly to complain
Of whatsoe'er the fates decree,
Yet, were not wishes all in vain,
I tell you what my wish should be
I 'd wish to be a boy again,
Back with the friends I used to know.
For I was, oh, so happy then --
But that was very long ago!

Source:

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