Skip to content
Linespedia

The Rock-A-By Lady

By Eugene Field

Topics: classic

The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street     Comes stealing; comes creeping;     The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,     And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet -     She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,     When she findeth you sleeping!     There is one little dream of a beautiful drum -     "Rub-a-dub!" it goeth;     There is one little dream of a big sugar-plum,     And lo! thick and fast the other dreams come     Of popguns that bang, and tin tops that hum,     And a trumpet that bloweth!     And dollies peep out of those wee little dreams     With laughter and singing;     And boats go a-floating on silvery streams,     And the stars peek-a-boo with their own misty gleams,     And up, up, and up, where the Mother Moon beams,     The fairies go winging!     Would you dream all these dreams that are tiny and fleet?     They'll come to you sleeping;     So shut the two eyes that are weary, my sweet,     For the Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street,     With poppies that hang from her head to her feet,     Comes stealing; comes creeping.

AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.

About this line

"The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street..."

Eugene Field's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The Rock-A-By Lady"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

Attribution & Rights

Author:Eugene Field

"The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street..." by Eugene Field

For usage rights, copyright concerns, or to report an issue with this content, please visit our Copyright & Report page.

Related lines

"No more your needed rest at night     By ribald youth is troubled;     No more your windows, fastened tight,     Yield to their knocks redouble"

"Since Chloe is so monstrous fair,     With such an eye and such an air,     What wonder that the world complains     When she each am'rous suit"

"Dear Miller: You and I despise     The cad who gathers books to sell 'em,     Be they but sixteen-mos in cloth     Or stately folios garbed in"

"I count my treasures o'er with care.--     The little toy my darling knew,     A little sock of faded hue,     A little lock of golden hair."

"Here morning in the ploughman's songs is met     Ere yet one footstep shows in all the sky,     And twilight in the east, a doubt as yet,     S"

"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

Eugene Field

About Eugene Field

Eugene Field (1850–1895) was an American writer and poet known as the "children's poet." His poems "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod" and "Little Boy Blue" are cherished classics of American children's literature.

Full Bibliography
Continue Reading

"No more your needed rest at night     By ribald yo..."

Weekly Poetic Insight

Join our literary Sanctuary

Get the most inspiring lines, poetic analysis, and secret shayaris delivered to your inbox every Sunday.