Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

* * *

BEFORE this little gift was come
The little owner had made haste for home;
And from the door of where the eternal dwell,
Looked back on human things and smiled farewell.
O may this grief remain the only one!
O may our house be still a garrison
Of smiling children, and for evermore
The tune of little feet be heard along the floor! 

1. I Know Not How, But As I Count
2. Requiem
3. To Madame Garschine
4. De Erotio Puella
5. Tempest Tossed and Sore Afflicted

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