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

To Mrs. Will. H. Low.

Even in the bluest noonday of July,
There could not run the smallest breath of wind
But all the quarter sounded like a wood;
And in the chequered silence and above
The hum of city cabs that sought the Bois,
Suburban ashes shivered into song.
A patter and a chatter and a chirp
And a long dying hiss - it was as though
Starched old brocaded dames through all the house

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