Field, Eugene The Poems of Eugene Field Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1910, Cloth, , First Edition, Very Good /No Jacket
553 pp. P.O. signature dated 1910 ffep. TEG. Green cloth, gilt decoration on front board, gilt lettering on spine. Gilt is bright cloth is fairly clean. Top and bottom of spine and corners have slight rubbing. Pages are clean and bright save for the TP, where a 2X4 newspaper clipping about Field, 'Birthday Bio Briefs' as been laid in causing the inevitable shadow.
The Lucile project is an attempt to recover the publishing history of a single 19th century book. Owen Meredith's Lucile was first published in 1860, by Chapman & Hall in England and as a Ticknor & Fields "Blue & Gold" in the United States. It was reviewed in the New York Times, as well as other newspapers and magazines. In England, it saw only a handful of editions over the next 40 years. In the United States, however, it remained in print until 1938, last offered as a surviving title in Burt's Home Library remaindered to Blue Ribbon Books in 1936. It went out of print in 1938.
The Center for Book Arts, a not-for-profit organization founded in 1974, offers over 100 classes and workshops in bookbinding, letterpress printing, paper marbling, typography, and related fields. The Center has mounted over 140 exhibitions during the last 25 years.
This site is dedicated to reprinting the works of Annie Adams Fields in accessible annotated editions. It was begun as a "spin-off" from the Sarah Orne Jewett Text Project.—by Terry Heller
A SONG OF EARLY AUTUMN
When late in summer the streams run yellow,
Burst the bridges and spread into bays;
When berries are black and peaches are mellow,
And hills are hidden by rainy haze;
When the goldenrod is golden still,
But the heart of the sunflower is darker and sadder;
When the corn is in stacks on the slope of the hill,
And slides o'er the path the striped adder;
When butterflies flutter from clover to thicket,
Or wave their wings on the drooping leaf;
When the breeze comes shrill with the call of the cricket,
Grasshopper's rasp, and rustle of sheaf;
When high in the field the fern-leaves wrinkle,
And brown is the grass where the mowers have mown;
When low in the meadow the cow-bells tinkle,
And small brooks crinkle o'er stock and stone;
When heavy and hollow the robin's whistle
And shadows are deep in the heat of noon;
When the air is white with the down o' the thistle,
And the sky is red with the harvest moon;
O, then be chary, young Robert and Mary,
No time let slip, not a moment wait!
If the fiddle would play it must stop its tuning;
And they who would wed must be done with their mooning;
So let the churn rattle, see well to the cattle,
And pile the wood by the barn-yard gate!