Poems begining by I

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In The States

© Robert Louis Stevenson

With half a heart I wander here
As from an age gone by
A brother yet though young in years,
An elder brother, I.

In the Highlands

© Robert Louis Stevenson

IN the highlands, in the country places,
Where the old plain men have rosy faces,
And the young fair maidens
Quiet eyes;

In The Green And Gallant Spring

© Robert Louis Stevenson

IN the green and gallant Spring,
Love and the lyre I thought to sing,
And kisses sweet to give and take
By the flowery hawthorn brake.

In Port

© Robert Louis Stevenson

Last, to the chamber where I lie
My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
And come out from the cold and gloom
Into my warm and cheerful room.

In Maximum

© Robert Louis Stevenson

WOULDST thou be free? I think it not, indeed;
But if thou wouldst, attend this simple rede:
When quite contented }thou canst dine at home
Thou shall be free when }

In Lupum

© Robert Louis Stevenson

BEYOND the gates thou gav'st a field to till;
I have a larger on my window-sill.
A farm, d'ye say? Is this a farm to you,
Where for all woods I spay one tuft of rue,

In Charidemum

© Robert Louis Stevenson

YOU, Charidemus, who my cradle swung,
And watched me all the days that I was young;
You, at whose step the laziest slaves awake,
And both the bailiff and the butler quake;

If This Were Faith

© Robert Louis Stevenson

God, if this were enough,
That I see things bare to the buff
And up to the buttocks in mire;
That I ask nor hope nor hire,

I, Whom Apollo Somtime Visited

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited,
Or feigned to visit, now, my day being done,
Do slumber wholly; nor shall know at all
The weariness of changes; nor perceive

I WHO all the winter through
Cherished other loves than you,
And kept hands with hoary policy in marriage-bed and pew;
Now I know the false and true,
For the earnest sun looks through,
And my old love comes to meet me in the dawning and the dew.

I Now, O Friend, Whom Noiselessly The Snows

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I NOW, O friend, whom noiselessly the snows
Settle around, and whose small chamber grows
Dusk as the sloping window takes its load:

I Love To Be Warm By The Red Fireside

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I LOVE to be warm by the red fireside,
I love to be wet with rain:
I love to be welcome at lamplit doors,
And leave the doors again.

I Know Not How, But As I Count

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I KNOW not how, but as I count
The beads of former years,
Old laughter catches in my throat
With the very feel of tears.

I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair

© Robert Louis Stevenson

I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass,
Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.

I Do Not Fear To Own Me Kin

I DO not fear to own me kin
To the glad clods in which spring flowers begin;
Or to my brothers, the great trees,
That speak with pleasant voices in the breeze,
Loud talkers with the winds that pass;
Or to my sister, the deep grass.

I Am Like One That For Long Days Had Sate

I AM like one that for long days had sate,
With seaward eyes set keen against the gale,
On some lone foreland, watching sail by sail,
The portbound ships for one ship that was late;

Informational Decay

I heard an echo in a hollow place.
No sound of blowing wind or drifting sand,
some ancient voice was this, a captive trace
of gone-by speech, of argument, demand,