The Novels and Tales of Robert Louis Stevenson...

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Charles Scribner's sons, 1895
 

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Strana 129 - Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me : Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
Strana 26 - I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all — O wind, a-blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song ! O you that are so strong and cold, O blower, are you young or old?
Strana 35 - THE SWING HOW do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue ? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do...
Strana 1 - IN winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street. And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day...
Strana 26 - Like ladies' skirts across the grass — O wind, a-blowing all day long, 0 wind, that sings so loud a song! I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all — O wind, a-blowing all day long, 0 wind, that sings so loud a song!
Strana 105 - ... leaping sun, with glancing rain Here shall the wizard moon ascend The heavens, in the crimson end Of day's declining splendour; here The army of the stars appear. The neighbour hollows dry or wet, Spring shall with tender flowers beset; And oft the morning muser see Larks rising from the broomy lea, And every fairy wheel and thread Of cobweb dew-bediamonded. When daisies go, shall winter time Silver the simple grass with rime; Autumnal frosts enchant the pool And make the cart-ruts beautiful...
Strana 11 - Or a comer-by be seen Swinging in a palanquin; Where among the desert sands Some deserted city stands, All its children, sweep and prince, Grown to manhood ages since, • Not a foot in street or house, Not a stir of child or mouse, And when kindly falls the night, In all the town no spark of light. There...
Strana 216 - BRIGHT is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said — On wings they are carried — After the singer is dead And the maker buried.
Strana 15 - WHERE GO THE BOATS? DARK brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along forever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating — Where will all come home?
Strana 145 - THE bed was made, the room was fit, By punctual eve the stars were lit; The air was still, the water ran, No need was there for maid or man, When we put up, my ass and I, At God's green caravanserai.

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