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Robert Louis Stevenson (Роберт Льюис Стивенсон)


* * *


My house, I say. But hark to the sunny doves
That make my roof the arena of their loves,
That gyre about the gable all day long
And fill the chimneys with their murmurous song:
Our house, they say; and mine, the cat declares
And spreads his golden fleece upon the chairs;
And mine the dog, and rises stiff with wrath
If any alien foot profane the path.
So, too, the buck that trimmed my terraces,
Our whilom gardener, called the garden his;
Who now, deposed, surveys my plain abode
And his late kingdom, only from the road.



Robert Louis Stevenson's other poems:
  1. Songs of Travel and Other Verses. 43. To S. R. Crockett
  2. Songs of Travel and Other Verses. 19. To Dr. Hake
  3. Songs of Travel and Other Verses. 40. And End to Travel
  4. Songs of Travel and Other Verses. 35. THE tropics vanish, and meseems that I
  5. Songs of Travel and Other Verses. 21. THE morning drum-call on my eager ear


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