Produced by Charlene Taylor, Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) Music by Linda Cantoni. Second BOOK OF VERSE BY EUGENE FIELD Second Book of Tales. Songs and Other Verse. The Holy Cross and Other Tales. The House. The Love Affairs of a Bibliomaniac. A Little Book Of Profitable Tales. A Little Book of Western Verse. Second Book of Verse. Each, 1 vol., 16mo, $1.25 A Little Book of Profitable Tales. Cameo Edition with etched portrait. 16mo, $1.25. Echoes from the Sabine Farm. 4to, $2.00 With Trumpet and Drum. 16mo, $1.00. Love Songs of Childhood. 16mo, $1.00. Second BOOK OF VERSE BY EUGENE FIELD NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1896 _Copyright, 1892_, BY JULIA SUTHERLAND FIELD. _A little bit of a woman came Athwart my path one day; So tiny was she that she seemed to be A pixy strayed from the misty sea, Or a wandering greenwood fay._ _"Oho, you little elf!" I cried, "And what are you doing here? So tiny as you will never do For the brutal rush and hullaballoo Of this practical world, I fear."_ _"Voice have I, good sir," said she.-- "'Tis soft as an Angel's sigh, But to fancy a word of yours were heard In all the din of this world's absurd!" Smiling, I made reply._ _"Hands have I, good sir" she quoth.-- "Marry, and that have you! But amid the strife and the tumult rife In all the struggle and battle for life, What can those wee hands do?"_ _"Eyes have I, good sir," she said.-- "Sooth, you have," quoth I, "And tears shall flow therefrom, I trow, And they betimes shall dim with woe, As the hard, hard years go by!"_ _That little bit of a woman cast Her two eyes full on me, And they smote me sore to my inmost core, And they hold me slaved forevermore,-- Yet would I not be free!_ _That little bit of a woman's hands Reached up into my breast And rent apart my scoffing heart,-- And they buffet it still with such sweet art As cannot be expressed._ _That little bit of a woman's voice Hath grown most wondrous dear; Above the blare of all elsewhere (An inspiration that mocks at care) It riseth full and clear._