Robert Louis Stevenson

(1850-1894 / Edinburgh / Scotland)

To Ottilie - Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

YOU remember, I suppose,
How the August sun arose,
And how his face
Woke to trill and carolette
All the cages that were set
About the place.

In the tender morning light
All around lay strange and bright
And still and sweet,
And the gray doves unafraid
Went their morning promenade
Along the street.


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Read poems about / on: august, remember, sun, light



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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