Robert Louis Stevenson

(1850-1894 / Edinburgh / Scotland)

Robert Louis Stevenson Poems

1. My Body, Which My Dungeon Is -new- 5/22/2015
2. To Mrs. Will. H. Low. 3/26/2015
3. The Mirror Speaks 4/7/2015
4. Underwoods: Epigram 1/29/2015
5. The Sick Child 4/24/2015
6. There Was An Old Man Of The Cape 2/4/2015
7. Consolation 3/6/2015
8. A Child's Garden Of Verses 1/7/2015
9. My House, I Say 1/9/2015
10. Wedding Prayer 2/3/2015
11. To Mesdames Zassetsky And Garschine 12/31/2002
12. The Spaewife 3/30/2010
13. The Relic Taken, What Avails The Shrine? 12/31/2002
14. To Rosabelle 12/31/2002
15. To Madame Garschine 12/31/2002
16. To Marcus 12/31/2002
17. Sonnet Viii 12/31/2002
18. The Old Chimaeras. Old Recipts 12/31/2002
19. The Clock's Clear Voice Into The Clearer Air 12/31/2002
20. In Maximum 12/31/2002
21. To Miss Cornish 12/31/2002
22. Frag2 12/31/2002
23. I, Whom Apollo Somtime Visited 12/31/2002
24. Light As The Linnet On My Way I Start 12/31/2002
25. To Will H. Low 3/30/2010
26. To Charles Baxter 12/31/2002
27. Tempest Tossed And Sore Afflicted 12/31/2002
28. In Charidemum 12/31/2002
29. Hail, Guest, And Enter Freely! 12/31/2002
30. Sonnet Vii 12/31/2002
31. O Dull Cold Northern Sky 12/31/2002
32. Sonet Vi 12/31/2002
33. Henry James 1/3/2003
34. In The States 1/3/2003
35. Sonnet Ii 12/31/2002
36. Frag1 12/31/2002
37. Sonnet V 12/31/2002
38. To Alison Cunningham, From Her Boy 3/30/2010
39. Lo, Now, My Guest 12/31/2002
40. To N. V. De G. S. 3/30/2010
Best Poem of Robert Louis Stevenson

The Swing

How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside--

Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown--
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!

Read the full of The Swing

In Lupum

BEYOND the gates thou gav'st a field to till;
I have a larger on my window-sill.
A farm, d'ye say? Is this a farm to you,
Where for all woods I spay one tuft of rue,
And that so rusty, and so small a thing,
One shrill cicada hides it with a wing;
Where one cucumber covers all the plain;
And where one serpent rings himself in vain
To enter wholly; and a single snail

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