Robert Louis Stevenson

Edinburgh / Scotland
Robert Louis Stevenson
Edinburgh / Scotland
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Ad Quintilianum

Rating: 3.0
O CHIEF director of the growing race,
Of Rome the glory and of Rome the grace,
Me, O Quintilian, may you not forgive
Before from labour I make haste to live?
Some burn to gather wealth, lay hands on rule,
Or with white statues fill the atrium full.
The talking hearth, the rafters sweet with smoke,
Live fountains and rough grass, my line invoke:
A sturdy slave, not too learned wife,
Nights filled with slumber, and a quiet life.
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COMMENTS
Georgios Venetopoulos 17 September 2014
A nice poem following the Iambic pentameter form, excepting the fifth line that becomes a quasi-tetrameter.
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