Robert Louis Stevenson
The Land of Nod
From breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do --
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad
Till morning in the land of Nod.
Try as I like to find the way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.
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Comments about this poem (The Land of Nod by Robert Louis Stevenson )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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