Winter-Time

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.

Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding cake.



Robert Louis Stevenson

Other poems by Robert Louis Stevenson

I WHo All The Winter Through

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson, published on Mon 12.13.2010 at 17:04

I WHO all the winter through
Cherished other loves than you,
And kept hands with hoary policy in marriage-bed and pew;

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To My Name-Child

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson, published on Fri 12.03.2010 at 00:49

1
Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you learn with proper speed,
Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read.

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The Angler Rose, He Took His Rod

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson, published on Mon 11.22.2010 at 16:34

THE angler rose, he took his rod,
He kneeled and made his prayers to God.
The living God sat overhead:

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Music At The Villa Marina

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson, published on Mon 11.22.2010 at 16:04

FOR some abiding central source of power,
Strong-smitten steady chords, ye seem to flow
And, flowing, carry virtue.Far below,

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Home, My Little Children, Hear Are Songs For You

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson, published on Thu 11.18.2010 at 10:40

COME, my little children, here are songs for you;
Some are short and some are long, and all, all are new.

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Away With Funeral Music

gb-sctwritten by Robert Louis Stevenson, published on Tue 11.16.2010 at 04:58

AWAY with funeral music - set
The pipe to powerful lips -
The cup of life's for him that drinks
And not for him that sips.

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