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Robert Louis Stevenson

"I Have Trod the Upward And..."

I have trod the upward and the downward slope;
I have endured and done in days before;
I have longed for all, and bid farewell to hope;
And I have lived and loved, and closed the door.

From Songs of Travel

#ScottishWriters

Altre opere di Robert Louis Stevenson...
My Ship and I

O it’s I that am the captain of a… Of a ship that goes a sailing on t… And my ship it keeps a—turning all… But when I’m a little older, I sh… How to send my vessel sailing on b…
To Mother Maryanne

To see the infinite pity of this p… The mangled limb, the devastated f… The innocent sufferer smiling at t… A fool were tempted to deny his G… He sees, he shrinks. But if he g…
I Will Make You Brooches

I will make you brooches and toys… Of bird—song at morning and star—s… I will make a palace fit for you a… Of green days in forests and blue… I will make my kitchen, and you sh…
Youth and Love: II.

To the heart of youth the world is… Passing for ever, he fares; and on… Deep in the gardens golden pavilio… Nestle in orchard bloom, and far o… Call him with lighted lamp in the…
Epitaphium Erotii

HERE lies Erotion, whom at six y… Fate pilfered. Stranger (when I t… Who shall succeed me in my rural f… To this small spirit annual honour… Bright be thy hearth, hale be thy…
In Charidemum

YOU, Charidemus, who my cradle s… And watched me all the days that… You, at whose step the laziest sla… And both the bailiff and the butle… The barber’s suds now blacken with…
Autumn Fires

In the other gardens And all up the vale, From the autumn bonfires See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over
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
The Land of Counterpane

When I was sick and lay a—bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay, To keep me happy all the day. And sometimes for an hour or so
O Dull Cold Northern Sky

O DULL cold northern sky, O brawling sabbath bells, O feebly twittering Autumn bird t… The year is like to die! O still, spoiled trees, O city wa…
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 ke… Away behind the currant row
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"In the Highlands..."

In the highlands, in the country p… Where the old plain men have rosy… And the young fair maidens Quiet eyes; Where essential silence cheers and…
Sonet VI

As in the hostel by the bridge I… Nailed with indifference fondly de… And (O strange chance, more sorro… The counterfeit of her that was my… Dressed in like vesture, graceful…
De Ligurra

YOU fear, Ligurra– above all, yo… That I should smite you with a st… This dreadful honour you both fear… Both all in vain: you fall below m… The Lybian lion tears the roaring…
Foreign Lands

Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hand… And looked abroad in foreign lands… I saw the next door garden lie,



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