The novels and tales of Robert Louis Stevenson... (Google eBook)

Front Cover
Charles Scribner's sons, 1895
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Contents

When A1nce Apr1le has Fa1rly Come
160
A MILE AN A BITTOCK
161
The Cl1nkumclank o Sabbath Bells
163
O 1 Wad L1ke to Ken
169
Its Ra1n1n Weets the Ga1rden Sod
171
My Bonny Man the Warld 1ts True
173
Its Strange that God Should Fash to Frame
176
Dear Thamson Class Whaureer I Gang
178
The Lord H1msel 1n Former Days
181
In Mony a Fore1gn Pa1rt Ive Been
184
Late 1n the N1cht
188
Of a the 1lls That Flesh can Fear
191
By Lyne and Tyne by Thames and Tees
193
Its an Owercome Sooth for Age an Youth
196
Book 111
197
G1ve to me the L1fe I Love
199
1 Once Only by the Garden Gate
201
11 To the Heart of Youth
202
1 In Dreams Unhappy
203
II She Rested by the Broken Brook
204
The Inf1n1te Sh1n1ng Heavens
205
Pla1n as the Gl1ster1ng Planets
206
To You let Snow and Roses
208
LET BEAUTY AWAKE
209
Know not How 1t 1s W1th You
210
W1ll Make You Brooches and Toys
211
and Reedy Island
212
The Cock shall Crow
214
Son of my Womans Body
215
Br1ght 1s the R1ng of Words
216
In the H1ghlands 1n the Country Places
217
Home no more Home
218
In the Beloved Hour
220
I Knew thee Strong
221
The Morn1ng DrumCall
223
Have Trod
224
He Hears w1th Gladdened Heart
225
Farewell Fa1r Day
226
God 1f th1s were enough
227
Trusty Dusky V1v1d True
229
In R1gorous Hours
230
The Stormy Even1ng Closes
231
S1nce Long Ago
232
The S1lver Sh1p my K1ng
234
Forth from her Land
235
To see the Inf1n1te P1ty
236
I Knew a S1lver Head
237
Long must Elapse Ere You
238
Res1gn the Rhapsody
240
Do you Remember
241
The Trop1cs Van1sh
243
I Heard the Pulse
245
Let us who Part
247
In all the Grove
252
As the S1ngle Pang of the Blow
257
Let now your Soul
259
We Uncomm1serate Pass
260
Once More I Saw H1m
261
S1ng Me a Song
262
Blows the W1nd Today
264
The Embers of the Day
265
Copyright

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Page 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.
Page 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?
Page 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...
Page i - 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...
Page 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!
Page 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...
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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?
Page 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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