New Poems, and Variant Readings. Robert Louis Stevenson

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СКАЧАТЬ own. The love-poems in particular, though they are of very unequal merit, possess in common a really affecting sincerity. That Stevenson should have preserved these poems through all the vicissitudes of his wandering life shows how dearly he must have valued them; and shows, too, I think, beyond any contradiction, that he meant they should be ultimately published.

      LLOYD OSBOURNE.

PRAYER

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      I ask good things that I detest,

       With speeches fair;

       Heed not, I pray Thee, Lord, my breast,

       But hear my prayer.

      I say ill things I would not say—

       Things unaware:

       Regard my breast, Lord, in Thy day,

       And not my prayer.

      My heart is evil in Thy sight:

       My good thoughts flee:

       O Lord, I cannot wish aright—

       Wish Thou for me.

      O bend my words and acts to Thee,

       However ill,

       That I, whate’er I say or be,

       May serve Thee still.

      O let my thoughts abide in Thee

       Lest I should fall:

       Show me Thyself in all I see,

       Thou Lord of all.

LO! IN THINE HONEST EYES I READ

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      Lo! in thine honest eyes I read

       The auspicious beacon that shall lead,

       After long sailing in deep seas,

       To quiet havens in June ease.

      Thy voice sings like an inland bird

       First by the seaworn sailor heard;

       And like road sheltered from life’s sea

       Thine honest heart is unto me.

THOUGH DEEP INDIFFERENCE SHOULD DROWSE

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      Though deep indifference should drowse

       The sluggish life beneath my brows,

       And all the external things I see

       Grow snow-showers in the street to me,

       Yet inmost in my stormy sense

       Thy looks shall be an influence.

      Though other loves may come and go

       And long years sever us below,

       Shall the thin ice that grows above

       Freeze the deep centre-well of love?

       No, still below light amours, thou

       Shalt rule me as thou rul’st me now.

      Year following year shall only set

       Fresh gems upon thy coronet;

       And Time, grown lover, shall delight

       To beautify thee in my sight;

       And thou shalt ever rule in me

       Crowned with the light of memory.

MY HEART, WHEN FIRST THE BLACK-BIRD SINGS

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      My heart, when first the blackbird sings,

       My heart drinks in the song:

       Cool pleasure fills my bosom through

       And spreads each nerve along.

      My bosom eddies quietly,

       My heart is stirred and cool

       As when a wind-moved briar sweeps

       A stone into a pool

      But unto thee, when thee I meet,

       My pulses thicken fast,

       As when the maddened lake grows black

       And ruffles in the blast.

I DREAMED OF FOREST ALLEYS FAIR

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I.

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      I dreamed of forest alleys fair

       And fields of gray-flowered grass,

       Where by the yellow summer moon

       My Jenny seemed to pass.

      I dreamed the yellow summer moon,

       Behind a cedar wood,

       Lay white on fields of rippling grass

       Where I and Jenny stood.

      I dreamed—but fallen through my dream,

       In a rainy land I lie

       Where wan wet morning crowns the hills

       Of grim reality.

II.

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      I am as one that keeps awake

       All night in the month of June,

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