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The Crescent Moon

© Amy Lowell

Slipping softly through the sky
Little horned, happy moon,
Can you hear me up so high?
Will you come down soon?

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Where Go the Boats?

© Robert Louis Stevenson

Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,
With trees on either hand.

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When The Sun Come After Rain

© Robert Louis Stevenson

WHEN the sun comes after rain
And the bird is in the blue,
The girls go down the lane
Two by two.

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To Rosabelle

© Robert Louis Stevenson

WHEN my young lady has grown great and staid,
And in long raiment wondrously arrayed,
She may take pleasure with a smile to know
How she delighted men-folk long ago.

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To My Name-Child

© Robert Louis Stevenson

Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed,
Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read.
Then you shall discover, that your name was printed down
By the English printers, long before, in London town.

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To Minnie

© Robert Louis Stevenson

The red room with the giant bed
Where none but elders laid their head;
The little room where you and I
Did for awhile together lie

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To Friends At Home

© Robert Louis Stevenson

TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost
The gracious old, the lovely young, to May
The fair, December the beloved,
These from my blue horizon and green isles,
These from this pinnacle of distances I,
The unforgetful, dedicate.

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To All That Love The Far And Blue

© Robert Louis Stevenson

TO all that love the far and blue:
Whether, from dawn to eve, on foot
The fleeing corners ye pursue,
Nor weary of the vain pursuit;

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The Unseen Playmate

© Robert Louis Stevenson

When children are playing alone on the green,
In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.

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The Sun Travels

© Robert Louis Stevenson

The sun is not a-bed, when I
At night upon my pillow lie;
Still round the earth his way he takes,
And morning after morning makes.

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The Old Chimaeras. Old Recipts

© Robert Louis Stevenson

THE old Chimaeras, old receipts
For making "happy land,"
The old political beliefs
Swam close before my hand.

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The Little Land

© Robert Louis Stevenson

When at home alone I sit
And am very tired of it,
I have just to shut my eyes
To go sailing through the skies--

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The Land of Story-Books

© Robert Louis Stevenson

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

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The Hayloft

© Robert Louis Stevenson

Through all the pleasant meadow-side
The grass grew shoulder-high,
Till the shining scythes went far and wide
And cut it down to dry.

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The Far-Farers

© Robert Louis Stevenson

THE broad sun,
The bright day:
White sails
On the blue bay:
The far-farers
Draw away.

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The Clock's Clear Voice Into The Clearer Air

© Robert Louis Stevenson

THE cock's clear voice into the clearer air
Where westward far I roam,
Mounts with a thrill of hope,
Falls with a sigh of home.

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Since Years Ago For Evermore

© Robert Louis Stevenson

SINCE years ago for evermore
My cedar ship I drew to shore;
And to the road and riverbed
And the green, nodding reeds, I said

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Requiem

© Robert Louis Stevenson

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.

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O Dull Cold Northern Sky

© Robert Louis Stevenson

O DULL cold northern sky,
O brawling sabbath bells,
O feebly twittering Autumn bird that tells
The year is like to die!

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My Shadow

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.