Robert Louis Stevenson Poems

  • 51.  
    AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, -
    You rouse the heart to wander and be free, Tho' where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell,
  • 52.  
    LO! in thine honest eyes I read
    The auspicious beacon that shall lead, After long sailing in deep seas,
  • 53.  
    Children, you are very little,
    And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and stately,
  • 54.  
    Whenever the moon and stars are set,
    Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet,
  • 55.  
    THE wind blew shrill and smart,
    And the wind awoke my heart Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea,
  • 56.  
    The red room with the giant bed
    Where none but elders laid their head; The little room where you and I
  • 57.  
    When the golden day is done,
    Through the closing portal, Child and garden, Flower and sun,
  • 58.  
    The coach is at the door at last;
    The eager children, mounting fast And kissing hands, in chorus sing:
  • 59.  
    The lamps now glitter down the street;
    Faintly sound the falling feet; And the blue even slowly falls
  • 60.  
    ON now, although the year be done,
    Now, although the love be dead, Dead and gone;
  • 61.  
    THIS girl was sweeter than the song of swans,
    And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls,
  • 62.  
    GOD gave to me a child in part,
    Yet wholly gave the father's heart: Child of my soul, O whither now,
  • 63.  
    Dear Uncle Jim. this garden ground
    That now you smoke your pipe around, has seen immortal actions done
  • 64.  
    In winter I get up at night
    And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer quite the other way,
  • 65.  
    I HAVE left all upon the shameful field,
    Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life; Spurless, with sword reversed and dinted shield,
  • 66.  
    YOU, Charidemus, who my cradle swung,
    And watched me all the days that I was young; You, at whose step the laziest slaves awake,
  • 67.  
    THERE'S just a twinkle in your eye
    That seems to say I MIGHT, if I Were only bold enough to try
  • 68.  
    Then the bright lamp is carried in,
    The sunless hours again begin; O'er all without, in field and lane,
  • 69.  
    THE UNFATHOMABLE sea, and time, and tears,
    The deeds of heroes and the crimes of kings Dispart us; and the river of events
  • 70.  
    My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky.
    It's time to take the window to see Leerie going by; For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,
  • 71.  
    COME, my beloved, hear from me
    Tales of the woods or open sea. Let our aspiring fancy rise
  • 72.  
    HAIL! Childish slaves of social rules
    You had yourselves a hand in making! How I could shake your faith, ye fools,
  • 73.  
    FIXED is the doom; and to the last of years
    Teacher and taught, friend, lover, parent, child, Each walks, though near, yet separate; each beholds
  • 74.  
    IF I have faltered more or less
    In my great task of happiness; If I have moved among my race
  • 75.  
    The friendly cow all red and white,
    I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might,
  • 76.  
    LATE, O miller,
    The birds are silent, The darkness falls.
  • 77.  
    NOW when the number of my years
    Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life
  • 78.  
    All night long and every night,
    When my mama puts out the light, I see the people marching by,
  • 79.  
    Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow,
    Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee,
  • 80.  
    If two may read aright
    These rhymes of old delight And house and garden play,
  • 81.  
    SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God,
    That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod And the great woods embower me, and white dawn
  • 82.  
    IT blows a snowing gale in the winter of the year;
    The boats are on the sea and the crews are on the pier. The needle of the vane, it is veering to and fro,
  • 83.  
    FAREWELL, and when forth
    I through the Golden Gates to Golden Isles Steer without smiling, through the sea of smiles,
  • 84.  
    FOR some abiding central source of power,
    Strong-smitten steady chords, ye seem to flow And, flowing, carry virtue. Far below,
  • 85.  
    Last, to the chamber where I lie
    My fearful footsteps patter nigh, And come out from the cold and gloom
  • 86.  
    With half a heart I wander here
    As from an age gone by A brother yetâ?? though young in years,
  • 87.  
    OUR Johnie's deid. The mair's the pity!
    He's deid, an' deid o' Aqua-vitae. O Embro', you're a shrunken city,
  • 88.  
    Over the borders, a sin without pardon,
    Breaking the branches and crawling below, Out through the breach in the wall of the garden,
  • 89.  
    I ASK good things that I detest,
    With speeches fair; Heed not, I pray Thee, Lord, my breast,
  • 90.  
    YOU have been far, and I
    Been farther yet, Since last, in foul or fair
  • 91.  
    NOW in the sky
    And on the hearth of Now in a drawer the direful cane,
  • 92.  
    THE old Chimaeras, old receipts
    For making "happy land," The old political beliefs
  • 93.  
    So shall this book wax like unto a well,
    Fairy with mirrored flowers about the brim, Or like some tarn that wailing curlews skim,
  • 94.  
    My bed is like a little boat;
    Nurse helps me in when I embark; She girds me in my sailor's coat
  • 95.  
    COME, here is adieu to the city
    And hurrah for the country again. The broad road lies before me
  • 96.  
    BEHOLD, as goblins dark of mien
    And portly tyrants dyed with crime Change, in the transformation scene,
  • 97.  
    Who comes to-night? We open the doors in vain.
    Who comes? My bursting walls, can you contain The presences that now together throng
  • 98.  
    AS in their flight the birds of song
    Halt here and there in sweet and sunny dales, But halt not overlong;
  • 99.  
    We built a ship upon the stairs
    All made of the back-bedroom chairs, And filled it full of soft pillows
  • 100.  
    Bring the comb and play upon it!
    Marching, here we come! Willie cocks his highland bonnet,
Total 231 poems written by Robert Louis Stevenson

Poem of the day

Eight O’Clock
 by Sara Teasdale

Supper comes at five o'clock,
At six, the evening star,
My lover comes at eight o'clock -
But eight o'clock is far.

How could I bear my pain all day
Unless I watched to see
The clock-hands laboring to bring

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