In Port

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson

Last, to the chamber where I lie
My fearful footsteps patter nigh,
And come out from the cold and gloom
Into my warm and cheerful room.

There, safe arrived, we turn about
To keep the coming shadows out,
And close the happy door at last
On all the perils that we past.

Then, when mamma goes by to bed,
She shall come in with tip-toe tread,
And see me lying warm and fast
And in the land of Nod at last.



Robert Louis Stevenson

Autres poésies de Robert Louis Stevenson

Strange Are The Ways Of Men

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson, publié le mer. 25/04/2007 à 20:15

STRANGE are the ways of men,
And strange the ways of God!
We tread the mazy paths
That all our fathers trod.

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The Land of Story-Books

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson, publié le mar. 24/04/2007 à 23:39

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,

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Prelude

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson, publié le sam. 21/04/2007 à 00:36

BY sunny market-place and street
Wherever I go my drum I beat,
And wherever I go in my coat of red

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Keepsake Mill

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson, publié le sam. 14/04/2007 à 17:22

Over the borders, a sin without pardon,
Breaking the branches and crawling below,

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At Last She Comes

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson, publié le mer. 28/03/2007 à 18:40

AT last she comes, O never more
In this dear patience of my pain
To leave me lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.

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O Dull Cold Northern Sky

gb-sctpar Robert Louis Stevenson, publié le sam. 03/02/2007 à 21:26

O DULL cold northern sky,
O brawling sabbath bells,
O feebly twittering Autumn bird that tells
The year is like to die!

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