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Eugene Field - To Mary Field French
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A dying mother gave to you
  Her child a many years ago;
How in your gracious love he grew,
  You know, dear, patient heart, you know.

The mother`s child you fostered then
  Salutes you now and bids you take
These little children of his pen
  And love them for the author`s sake.

To you I dedicate this book,
  And, as you read it line by line,
Upon its faults as kindly look
  As you have always looked on mine.

Tardy the offering is and weak;--
  Yet were I happy if I knew
These children had the power to speak
  My love and gratitude to you.
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