Robert Louis Stevenson

(1850-1894 / Edinburgh / Scotland)

poet Robert Louis Stevenson
#31 on top 500 poets

Robert Louis Stevenson Poems

81. Tales Of Arabia 12/31/2002
82. The Old Chimaeras. Old Recipts 12/31/2002
83. Now Bare To The Beholder's Eye 12/31/2002
84. Men Are Heaven's Piers 12/31/2002
85. Sonnet Iii 12/31/2002
86. Early In The Morning I Hear On Your Piano 12/31/2002
87. I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys Fair 12/31/2002
88. Man Sails The Deep Awhile 12/31/2002
89. Go, Little Book - The Ancient Phrase 12/31/2002
90. In The Highlands 1/4/2003
91. To My Name-Child 1/3/2003
92. Nest Eggs 1/3/2003
93. The Vanquished Knight 12/31/2002
94. Sonnet I 12/31/2002
95. My Heart, When First The Black-Bird Sings 12/31/2002
96. Stout Marches Lead To Certain Ends 12/31/2002
97. I Know Not How, But As I Count 12/31/2002
98. This Gloomy Northern Day 12/31/2002
99. Music At The Villa Marina 12/31/2002
100. De Ligurra 12/31/2002
101. Before This Little Gift Was Come 12/31/2002
102. I Love To Be Warm By The Red Fireside 12/31/2002
103. In Port 1/3/2003
104. Still I Love To Rhyme 12/31/2002
105. The Hayloft 1/3/2003
106. De Erotio Puella 12/31/2002
107. Duddingstone 12/31/2002
108. Prelude 12/31/2002
109. Dedicatory Poem For "Underwoods" 12/31/2002
110. Voluntary 12/31/2002
111. To Willie And Henrietta 1/3/2003
112. Though Deep Indifference Should Drowse 12/31/2002
113. I Will Make You Brooches 3/30/2010
114. De Coenatione Micae 12/31/2002
115. The Far-Farers 12/31/2002
116. God Gave To Me A Child In Part 12/31/2002
117. The Sun Travels 1/3/2003
118. To All That Love The Far And Blue 12/31/2002
119. To The Muse 1/3/2003
120. It Blows A Snowing Gale 12/31/2002
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Best Poem of Robert Louis Stevenson

Love, What Is Love

LOVE - what is love? A great and aching heart;
Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair.
Life - what is life? Upon a moorland bare
To see love coming and see love depart.

Read the full of Love, What Is Love

The Land Of Counterpane

When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay,
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

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