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Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Louis Stevenson

It Blows a Snowing Gale

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,
A flash of sun is on the veering of the vane.
Autumn leaves and rain,
The passion of the gale.

#Scots #XIXCentury

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Other works by Robert Louis Stevenson...
Sonnet II

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YES, friend, I own these tales o… Smile not, as smiled their flawles… Age—old but yet untamed, for ages Pass and the magic is undiminished… Thus, friend, the tales of the old…
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Behold, as goblins dark of mien And portly tyrants dyed with crime Change, in the transformation scen… At Christmas, in the pantomime, Instanter, at the prompter’s cough…
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The Angler Rose, He Took His Rod

THE angler rose, he took his rod, He kneeled and made his prayers to… The living God sat overhead: The angler tripped, the eels were…
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CALL it to mind, O my love. Dear were your eyes as the day, Bright as the day and the sky; Like the stream of gold and the sk… Dear were your eyes in the grey.
"It Is the Season Now to Go"

It is the season now to go About the country high and low, Among the lilacs hand in hand, And two by two in fairy land. The brooding boy, the sighing maid…
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Friend, in my mountain-side demesn… My plain-beholding, rosy, green And linnet-haunted garden-ground, Let still the esculents abound. Let first the onion flourish there…
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AS when the hunt by holt and fiel… Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea’s roar fills us aching ful…
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FOR these are sacred fishes all Who know that lord that is the lor… Come to the brim and nose the frie… That sways and can beshadow all th… Nor only so, but have their names,…
Where Go the Boats?

Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a—floating,
The Spaewife

OH, I wad like to ken—to the begg… Why chops are guid to brander and… An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to ke… It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says… Oh, I wad like to ken—to the begg…
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Three of us afloat in the meadow b… Three of us abroad in the basket o… Winds are in the air, they are blo… And waves are on the meadow like t… Where shall we adventure, to—day t…



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