Robert Louis Stevenson

(1850-1894 / Edinburgh / Scotland)

Robert Louis Stevenson Poems

1. A Child's Garden Of Verses 1/7/2015
2. A Good Boy 1/3/2003
3. A Good Play 1/3/2003
4. A Thought 1/3/2003
5. A Valentine's Song 12/31/2002
6. About The Sheltered Garden Ground 12/31/2002
7. Ad Magistrum Ludi 12/31/2002
8. Ad Martialem 12/31/2002
9. Ad Nepotem 12/31/2002
10. Ad Olum 12/31/2002
11. Ad Piscatorem 12/31/2002
12. Ad Quintilianum 12/31/2002
13. Ad Se Ipsum 12/31/2002
14. After Reading "Antony And Cleopatra" 12/31/2002
15. Air Of Diabelli's 12/31/2002
16. An English Breeze 12/31/2002
17. Apologetic Postscript Of A Year Later 12/31/2002
18. Armies In The Fire 1/3/2003
19. As In Their Flight The Birds Of Song 12/31/2002
20. As One Who Having Wandered All Night Long 12/31/2002
21. At Last She Comes 12/31/2002
22. At The Sea-Side 1/3/2003
23. Auntie's Skirts 1/3/2003
24. Autumn Fires 1/3/2003
25. Away With Funeral Music 12/31/2002
26. Bed In Summer 1/3/2003
27. Before This Little Gift Was Come 12/31/2002
28. Behold, As Goblins Dark Of Mien 12/31/2002
29. Block City 1/3/2003
30. Christmas At Sea 3/30/2010
31. Come From The Daisied Meadows 12/31/2002
32. Come, Here Is Adieu To The City 12/31/2002
33. Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me 12/31/2002
34. Consolation 3/6/2015
35. De Coenatione Micae 12/31/2002
36. De Erotio Puella 12/31/2002
37. De Hortis Julii Martialis 12/31/2002
38. De Ligurra 12/31/2002
39. De M. Antonio 12/31/2002
40. Death, To The Dead For Evermore 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Robert Louis Stevenson

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!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!

Read the full of The Swing

In Lupum

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,
And that so rusty, and so small a thing,
One shrill cicada hides it with a wing;
Where one cucumber covers all the plain;
And where one serpent rings himself in vain
To enter wholly; and a single snail

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