Poems begining by T
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To Madame Garschine
© Robert Louis Stevenson
WHAT is the face, the fairest face, till Care,
Till Care the graver - Care with cunning hand,
Etches content thereon and makes it fair,
Or constancy, and love, and makes it grand?
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.
To Charles Baxter
© Robert Louis Stevenson
OUR Johnie's deid. The mair's the pity!
He's deid, an' deid o' Aqua-vitae.
O Embro', you're a shrunken city,
Noo Johnie's deid!
Tak hands, an' sing a burial ditty
Ower Johnie's heid.
To Auntie
© Robert Louis Stevenson
"Chief of our aunts"--not only I,
But all your dozen of nurselings cry--
"What did the other children do?
And what were childhood, wanting you?"
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;
Though Deep Indifference Should Drowse
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THOUGH deep indifference should drowse
The sluggish life beneath my brows,
And all the external things I see
Grow snow-showers in the street to me,
Yet inmost in my stormy sense
Thy looks shall be an influence.
Thou Strainest Through The Mountain Fern
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THOU strainest through the mountain fern,
A most exiguously thin Burn.
For all thy foam, for all thy din,
Thee shall the pallid lake inurn,
This Gloomy Northern Day
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THIS gloomy northern day,
Or this yet gloomier night,
Has moved a something high
In my cold heart; and I,
That do not often pray,
Would pray to-night.
The Wind Is Without There And Howls In The Trees
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THE wind is without there and howls in the trees,
And the rain-flurries drum on the glass:
Alone by the fireside with elbows on knees
I can number the hours as they pass.
The Wind Blew Shrill And Smart
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THE wind blew shrill and smart,
And the wind awoke my heart
Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea,
To hear the cordage moan
And the straining timbers groan,
And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee.
The Vanquished Knight
© Robert Louis Stevenson
I HAVE left all upon the shameful field,
Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life;
Spurless, with sword reversed and dinted shield,
Degraded and disgraced, I leave the strife.
The Vagabond
© Robert Louis Stevenson
Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above
And the byway nigh me.
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.
The Swing
© Robert Louis Stevenson
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!
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.
The Summer Sun Shone Round Me
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THE summer sun shone round me,
The folded valley lay
In a stream of sun and odour,
That sultry summer day.
The Relic Taken, What Avails The Shrine?
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine?
The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine,
Art thou not worse than that,
Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat?
The Piper
© Robert Louis Stevenson
AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, -
You rouse the heart to wander and be free,
Tho' where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell,
For you pipe the open highway and the sea.
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.
The Moon
© Robert Louis Stevenson
The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;
She shines on thieves on the garden wall,
On streets and fields and harbour quays,
And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.
