The Fly-Away Horse

         It’s time for a fantasy poem!  The Fly-Away Horse is a poem by Eugene Field (USA, 1850-1895) whose light verse for children was so popular that he became known as the “Poet of Childhood.”  (By whom? Presumably by his publisher.)  He liked to write in vernacular, spelling out the childish pronunciations of common boys getting up to mischief.  In this poem, on the other hand, he’s gone for high-brow old-fashioned literary style.  Nevertheless, it’s got a great rollicking rhythm with plenty of alliteration and rhyme to make it fun to hear.  I believe this was first published in Poems of Childhood in 1894.  Its theme, wonderful dreams, is one Field riffed on in quite a few of his poems.

Oh, a wonderful horse is the Fly-Away Horse-

Perhaps you have seen him before;

Perhaps, while you slept, his shadow has swept

Through the moonlight that floats on the floor.

For it's only at night, when the stars twinkle bright,

That the Fly-Away Horse, with a neigh

And a pull at his rein and a toss of his mane,

Is up on his heels and away!

The moon in the sky,

As he gallopeth by,

Cries: "Oh! What a marvelous sight!"

And the Stars in dismay

Hide their faces away

In the lap of old Grandmother Night.

It is yonder, out yonder, the Fly-Away Horse

Speedeth ever and ever away-

Over meadows and lane, over mountains and plains,

Over streamlets that sing at their play;

And over the sea like a ghost sweepeth he,

While the ships they go sailing below,

And he speedeth so fast that the men on the mast

Adjudge him some portent of woe.

"What ho, there!" they cry,

As he flourishes by

With a whisk of his beautiful tail;

And the fish in the sea

Are as scared as can be,

From the nautilus up to the whale!

And the Fly-Away Horse seeks those far-away lands

You little folk dream of at night-

Where candy-trees grow, and honey-brooks flow,

And corn-fields with popcorn are white;

And the beasts in the wood are ever so good

To children who visit them there-

What glory astride of a lion to ride,

Or to wrestle around with a bear!

The monkeys, they say:

"Come on, let us play,"

And they frisk in the coconut-trees:

While the parrots, that cling

To the peanut-vines sing

Or converse with comparative ease!

Off! scamper to bed- you shall ride him to-night!

For, as soon as you've fallen asleep,

With a jubilant neigh he shall bear you away

Over forest and hillside and deep!

But tell us, my dear, all you see and you hear

In those beautiful lands over there,

Where the Fly-Away Horse wings his far-away course

With the wee one consigned to his care.

Then grandma will cry

In amazement: "Oh, my!"

And she'll think it could never be so.

And only we two

Shall know it is true-

You and I, little precious, shall know!

[Pictures: First Flight, rubber block print by AEGN, 2018.]