Robert Louis Stevenson: Collected Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Robert Louis Stevenson: Collected Poems

Edited, with an introduction and notes, by Janet Adam Smith

Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850-1894)

POEMS 1869–1879

I Dedication

II.

III.

III After Reading ‘Antony and Cleopatra’

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XI Death

XII.

XII

XIII.

XIII Epistle to Charles Baxter

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXI

XXII.

XXII

XXIII.

XXIII The Light-Keeper

II.

XXIV.

XXIV

XXV.

XXV The Cruel Mistress

XXVI.

XXVI Storm

XXVII.

XXVII Stormy Nights

XXVIII.

XXVIII Song at Dawn

XXIX.

XXIX Nous n'irons plus aux bois

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXVIII The Daughter of Herodias

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

I To The Commissioners of Northern Lights, with a Paper

II.

II To Mesdames Zassetsky and Garschine

III.

III To Charles Baxter

IV.

IV To the Same [Charles Baxter]

UNDERWOODS

BOOK I: IN ENGLISH

I Envoy

II.

II A Song of the Road

III.

III The Canoe Speaks

IV.

V The House Beautiful

VI.

VI A Visit from the Sea

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XII To Mrs Will H. Low

XIII.

XIII To H. F. Brown

XIV.

XIV To Andrew Lang

XV.

XV Et Tu in Arcadia Vixisti

XVI.

XVI To W. E. Henley

XVII.

XVII Henry James

XVIII.

XVIII The Mirror Speaks

XIX.

XIX Katharine

XX.

XX To F. J. S.

XXI.

XXI Requiem

XXII.

XXII The Celestial Surgeon

XXIII.

XXIII Our Lady of the Snows

XXIV.

XXIV

XXV.

XXV

XXVI.

XXVI The Sick Child

XXVII.

XXVII In Memoriam F. A. S.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIII The Country of the Camisards

XXXIV.

XXXIV Skerryvore

XXXV.

XXXV Skerryvore: The Parallel

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

II.

I The Maker to Posterity

II.

II Ille Terrarum

III.

III

IV.

IV A Mile an' a Bittock

V A Lowden Sabbath Morn

VI.

VI The Spaewife

VII.

VII The Blast—1875

VIII.

VIII The Counterblast—1886

IX.

IX The Counterblast Ironical

X Their Laureate to an Academy Class Dinner Club

XI.

XI Embro Hie Kirk

XII.

XII The Scotsman's Return from Abroad

XIII.

XIII

XIV.

XIV My Conscience!

XV.

XV To Doctor John Brown

XVI.

XVI

BALLADS

The Song of Rahéro

I. THE SLAYING OF TÁMATÉA

II.

II. THE VENGING OF TÁMATÉA

III.

III. RAHÉRO

The Feast of Famine

I. THE PRIEST'S VIGIL

II.

III.

IV.

I. THE SAYING OF THE NAME

II.

II. THE SEEKING OF THE NAME

III.

III. THE PLACE OF THE NAME

II.

III.

III Youth and Love—II

IV.

VI.

VII.

VII Madrigal

VIII.

VIII

IX.

XI.

XII.

XII We Have Loved of Yore

XIII.

XIII Ditty

XIV.

XIV Mater Triumphans

XV.

XVI.

XVI

XVII.

XVII To the Tune of Wandering Willie

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVI If This Were Faith

XXVII.

XXVII My Wife

XXVIII.

XXVIII To the Muse

XXIX.

XXIX To an Island Princess

XXX.

XXX To Kalakaua

XXXI.

XXXI To Princess Kaiulani

XXXII.

XXXII To Mother Maryanne

XXXIII.

XXXIII In Memoriam E. H.

XXXIV.

XXXIV To My Wife

XXXV.

XXXV To My Old Familiars

XXXVI.

XXXVI

XXXVII.

XXXVII To S. C.

XXXVIII.

XXXVIII The House of Tembinoka

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

XLV.

XLV To S. R. Crockett

XLVI.

XLVI Evensong

POEMS 1880–1894

I Alcaics to H. F. Brown

II.

II Tales of Arabia

III.

III

IV.

V Horace, Book II, Ode III

VI.

VI Lines for H. F. Brown

VII Translations from Martial

DE HORTIS JULII MARTIALIS

AD MARTIALEM

AN IMITATION, PINDARIS CAUSA

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XII

XIII.

XIII

XIV.

XIV

XV.

XVI.

XVI

XVII.

XVII

XVIII.

XVIII To Mrs E. F. Strickland

XIX.

XIX For Richmond's Garden Wall

XX.

XX To Frederick Locker

XXI.

XXI To Master Andrew Lang

XXII.

XXII

XXIII.

XXIII The Family

XXIV.

XXIV

XXV.

XXV To the Stormy Petrel

XXVI.

XXVI

XXVII.

XXVII

DEDICATIONS AND POEMS FROM BOOKS

I To the Hesitating Purchaser

II.

II Pirate Ditty

III.

III The Song of the Sword of Alan

IV.

IV To Virgil and Dora Williams

V To Nelly Sanchez

VI.

VI To H. C. Bunner

VII.

VII To Katharine de Mattos

VIII.

VIII To My Wife

LIGHT VERSE

II.

III.

III To Charles Baxter

IV.

IV Ne Sit Ancillae Tibi Amor Pudori

V Poem for a Class Re-union

VI.

VI Browning

VII.

VII On an Inland Voyage

VIII.

VIII Dedication

IX.

IX On Some Ghostly Companions at A Spa

X Brasheanna

XI.

XI To A. G. Dew-Smith

XII.

XII

XIII.

XIII

XIV.

XIV

XV.

XVI.

XVI To Time

XVII.

XVII Fragment

XVIII.

XVIII Burlesque Sonnet To Æneas William Mackintosh

XIX.

XIX Rhymes to Henley

XX.

XX Epitaphs

XXI.

XXI The Fine Pacific Islands

XXII.

XXIII.

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES

II.

III.

IV.

IV Young Night Thought

V Whole Duty of Children

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XIV Where Go the Boats?

XV.

XV Auntie's Skirts

XVI.

XVI The Land of Counterpane

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXI Escape at Bedtime

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVII Good and Bad Children

XXVIII.

XXVIII Foreign Children

XXIX.

XXIX The Sun's Travels

XXX.

XXX The Lamplighter

XXXI.

XXXI My Bed is a Boat

XXXII.

XXXII The Moon

XXXIII.

XXXIII The Swing

XXXIV.

XXXIV Time to Rise

XXXV.

XXXV Looking-Glass River

XXXVI.

XXXVI Fairy-Bread

XXXVII.

XXXVII From a Railway Carriage

XXXVIII.

XXXVIII Winter Time

XXXIX.

XXXIX The Hayloft

XL.

XL Farewell to the Farm

XLI.

XLI North-West Passage

THE CHILD ALONE

I The Unseen Playmate

II.

II My Ship and I

III.

III My Kingdom

IV.

IV Picture Books in Winter

V My Treasures

VI.

VI Block City

VII.

VII The Land of Story-Books

VIII.

VIII Armies in the Fire

IX.

GARDEN DAYS

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

VIII Historical Associations

ENVOYS

I To Willie and Henrietta

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

NOT I AND OTHER POEMS

I Not I

II.

III.

III

IV.

MORAL EMBLEMS I

II.

III.

III A Peak in Darien

IV.

MORAL EMBLEMS II

II.

III.

III

IV.

A MARTIAL ELEGY FOR SOME LEAD SOLDIERS

THE GRAVER AND THE PEN:

Proem

The Precarious Mill

The Disputatious Pines

The Tramps

The Foolhardy Geographer

The Angler & the Clown

MORAL TALES

I Robin and Ben: or, the Pirate and the Apothecary

II.

II The Builder's Doom

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

398

GARDEN DAYS

I
Night and Day

When the golden day is done,
Through the closing portal,
Child and garden, flower and sun,
Vanish all things mortal.

As the blinding shadows fall,
As the rays diminish,
Under evening's cloak, they all
Roll away and vanish.

Garden darkened, daisy shut,
Child in bed, they slumber—
Glow-worm in the highway rut,
Mice among the lumber.

In the darkness houses shine,
Parents move with candles;
Till on all, the night divine
Turns the bedroom handles.

Till at last the day begins
In the east a-breaking,
In the hedges and the whins
Sleeping birds a-waking.

In the darkness shapes of things,
Houses, trees, and hedges,
Clearer grow; and sparrow's wings
Beat on window ledges.

399

These shall wake the yawning maid;
She the door shall open—
Finding dew on garden glade
And the morning broken.

There my garden grows again
Green and rosy painted,
As at eve behind the pane
From my eyes it fainted.

Just as it was shut away,
Toy-like, in the even,
Here I see it glow with day
Under glowing heaven.

Every path and every plot,
Every bush of roses,
Every blue forget-me-not
Where the dew reposes,

‘Up!’ they cry, ‘the day is come
On the smiling valleys:
We have beat the morning drum;
Playmate, join your allies!’

II
Nest Eggs

Birds all the sunny day
Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbour-like
Tent of the laurel.

400

Here in the fork
The brown nest is seated;
Four little blue eggs
The mother keeps heated.

While we stand watching her,
Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
Birds' little babies.

Soon the frail eggs they shall
Chip, and upspringing
Make all the April woods
Merry with singing.

Younger than we are,
O children, and frailer,
Soon in blue air they'll be.
Singer and sailor.

We, so much older,
Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
Birdies no longer.

They shall go flying
With musical speeches
High overhead in the
Tops of the beeches.

In spite of our wisdom
And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
Plodding and walking.

401

III
The Flowers

All the names I know from nurse:
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,
And the Lady Hollyhock.

Fairy places, fairy things,
Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,
Tiny trees for tiny dames—
These must all be fairy names!

Tiny woods below whose boughs
Shady fairies weave a house;
Tiny tree tops, rose or thyme,
Where the braver fairies climb!

Fair are grown-up people's trees,
But the fairest woods are these;
Where if I were not so tall,
I should live for good and all.

IV
Summer Sun

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven without repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

402

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles,
Into the laddered hayloft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

V
The Dumb Soldier

When the grass was closely mown,
Walking on the lawn alone,
In the turf a hole I found
And hid a soldier underground.

Spring and daisies came apace;
Grasses hide my hiding place;
Grasses run like a green sea
O'er the lawn up to my knee.

403

Under grass alone he lies,
Looking up with leaden eyes,
Scarlet coat and pointed gun,
To the stars and to the sun.

When the grass is ripe like grain,
When the scythe is stoned again,
When the lawn is shaven clear,
Then my hole shall reappear.

I shall find him, never fear,
I shall find my grenadier;
But for all that's gone and come,
I shall find my soldier dumb.

He has lived, a little thing,
In the grassy woods of spring;
Done, if he could tell me true,
Just as I should like to do.

He has seen the starry hours
And the springing of the flowers;
And the fairy things that pass
In the forests of the grass.

In the silence he has heard
Talking bee and ladybird,
And the butterfly has flown
O'er him as he lay alone.

Not a word will he disclose,
Not a word of all he knows.
I must lay him on the shelf,
And make up the tale myself.

404

VI
Autumn Fires

In the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!

Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The grey smoke towers.

Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!

VII
The Gardener

The gardener does not love to talk,
He makes me keep the gravel walk;
And when he puts his tools away,
He locks the door and takes the key.

Away behind the currant row
Where no one else but cook may go,
Far in the plots, I see him dig
Old and serious, brown and big.

405

He digs the flowers, green, red and blue,
Nor wishes to be spoken to.
He digs the flowers and cuts the hay,
And never seems to want to play.

Silly gardener! summer goes,
And winter comes with pinching toes,
When in the garden bare and brown
You must lay your barrow down.

Well now, and while the summer stays
To profit by these garden days
O how much wiser you would be
To play at Indian wars with me!

VIII
Historical Associations

Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground
That now you smoke your pipe around,
Has seen immortal actions done
And valiant battles lost and won.

Here we had best on tip-toe tread,
While I for safety march ahead,
For this is that enchanted ground
Where all who loiter slumber sound.

Here is the sea, here is the sand,
Here is simple Shepherd's Land,
Here are the fairy hollyhocks,
And there are Ali Baba's rocks.

406

But yonder, see! apart and high,
Frozen Siberia lies; where I,
With Robert Bruce and William Tell,
Was bound by an enchanter's spell.

There, then, awhile in chains we lay,
In wintry dungeons, far from day;
But ris'n at length, with might and main,
Our iron fetters burst in twain.

Then all the horns were blown in town;
And to the ramparts clanging down,
All the giants leaped to horse
And charged behind us through the gorse.

On we rode, the others and I,
Over the mountains blue, and by
The Silver River, the sounding sea
And the robber woods of Tartary.

A thousand miles we galloped fast,
And down the witches' lane we passed,
And rode amain, with brandished sword,
Up to the middle, through the ford.

Last we drew rein—a weary three—
Upon the lawn, in time for tea,
And from our steeds alighted down
Before the gates of Babylon.