Songs of Travel

AND OTHER VERSES

by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

eighth impression

LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS 1908

The following collection of verses, written at various times and places, principally after the author’s final departure from England in 1887, was sent home by him for publication some months before his death. He had tried them in several different orders and under several different titles, as “Songs and Notes of Travel,” “Posthumous Poems,” etc., and in the end left their naming and arrangement to the present editor, with the suggestion that they should be added as Book III. to future editions of “Underwoods.” This suggestion it is proposed to carry out; but in the meantime, for the benefit of those who possess “Underwoods” in its original form, it has been thought desirable to publish them separately in the present volume. They have already been included in the Edinburgh Edition of the author’s works.

S. C.

CONTENTS

i.

The Vagabond—Give to me the life I love

ii.

Youth and Love: i.—Once only by the garden gate

iii.

Youth and Love: ii.—To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside

iv.

In dreams, unhappy, I behold you stand

v.

She rested by the Broken Brook

vi.

The infinite shining heavens

vii.

Plain as the glistering planets shine

viii.

To you, let snows and roses

ix.

Let Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams

x.

I know not how it is with you

xi.

I will make you brooches and toys for your delight

xii.

We have loved of Yore—Berried brake and reedy island

xiii.

Mater Triumphans—Son of my woman’s body, you go, to the drum and fife

xiv.

Bright is the ring of words

xv.

In the highlands, in the country places

xvi.

Home no more home to me, wither must I wander?

xvii.

Winter—In rigorous hours, when down the iron lane

xviii.

The stormy evening closes now in vain

xix.

To Dr. Hake—In the belovèd hour that ushers day

xx.

To ——I knew thee strong and quiet like the hills

xxi.

The morning drum-call on my eager ear

xxii.

I have trod the upward and downward slope

xxiii.

He hears with gladdened heart the thunder

xxiv.

Farewell, fair day and fading light!

xxv.

If this were Faith—God, if this were enough

xxvi.

My Wife—Trusty, dusky, vivid, true

xxvii.

To the Muse—Resign the rhapsody, the dream

xxviii.

To an Island Princess—Since long ago, a child at home

xxix.

To Kalakaua—The Sliver Ship, my King—that was her name

xxx.

To Princess Kaiulani—Forth form her land to mine she goes

xxxi.

To Mother Maryanne—To see the infinite pity of this place

xxxii.

In Memoriam E. H.—I knew a silver head was bright beyond compare

xxxiii.

To my Wife—Long must elapse ere you behold again

xxxiv.

To my Old Familiars—Do you remember—can we e’er forget?

xxxv.

The tropics vanish, and meseems that I

xxxvi.

To S. C.—I heard the pulse of the besieging sea

xxxvii.

The House of Tembinoka—Let us, who part like brothers, part like bards

xxxviii.

The Woodman—In all the grove, not stream nor bird

xxxix.

Tropic Rain—As the single pang of the blow, when the metal is mingled well

xl.

An End of Travel—Let now your soul in this substantial world

xli.

We uncommiserate pass into the night

xlii.

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone

xliii.

To S. R. Crockett—Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and rain are flying

xliv.

Evensong—The embers of the day are red

I—THE VAGABOND (To an air of Schubert)

Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me. Bed in the bush with stars to see, Bread I dip in the river— There’s the life for a man like me, There’s the life for ever.

Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o’er me; Give the face of earth around And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek, the heaven above And the road below me.

Or let autumn fall on me Where afield I linger, Silencing the bird on tree, Biting the blue finger. White as meal the frosty field— Warm the fireside haven— Not to autumn will I yield, Not to winter even!

Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o’er me; Give the face of earth around, And the road before me. Wealth I ask not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I ask, the heaven above And the road below me.

II—YOUTH AND LOVE—I

Once only by the garden gate Our lips we joined and parted. I must fulfil an empty fate And travel the uncharted.

Hail and farewell! I must arise, Leave here the fatted cattle, And paint on foreign lands and skies My Odyssey of battle.

The untented Kosmos my abode, I pass, a wilful stranger: My mistress still the open road And the bright eyes of danger.

Come ill or well, the cross, the crown, The rainbow or the thunder, I fling my soul and body down For God to plough them under.

III—YOUTH AND LOVE—II

To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside. Passing for ever, he fares; and on either hand, Deep in the gardens golden pavilions hide, Nestle in orchard bloom, and far on the level land Call him with lighted lamp in the eventide.

Thick as the stars at night when the moon is down, Pleasures assail him. He to his nobler fate Fares; and but waves a hand as he passes on, Cries but a wayside word to her at the garden gate, Sings but a boyish stave and his face is gone.

IV

In dreams, unhappy, I behold you stand As heretofore: The unremembered tokens in your hand Avail no more.

No more the morning glow, no more the grace, Enshrines, endears. Cold beats the light of time upon your face And shows your tears.

He came and went. Perchance you wept a while And then forgot. Ah me! but he that left you with a smile Forgets you not.

V

She rested by the Broken Brook, She drank of Weary Well, She moved beyond my lingering look, Ah, whither none can tell!

She came, she went. In other lands, Perchance in fairer skies, Her hands shall cling with other hands, Her eyes to other eyes.

She vanished. In the sounding town, Will she remember too? Will she recall the eyes of brown As I recall the blue?

VI

The infinite shining heavens Rose and I saw in the night Uncountable angel stars Showering sorrow and light.

I saw them distant as heaven, Dumb and shining and dead, And the idle stars of the night Were dearer to me than bread.

Night after night in my sorrow The stars stood over the sea, Till lo! I looked in the dusk And a star had come down to me.

VII

Plain as the glistering planets shine When winds have cleaned the skies, Her love appeared, appealed for mine, And wantoned in her eyes.

Clear as the shining tapers burned On Cytherea’s shrine, Those brimming, lustrous beauties turned, And called and conquered mine.

The beacon-lamp that Hero lit No fairer shone on sea, No plainlier summoned will and wit, Than hers encouraged me.

I thrilled to feel her influence near, I struck my flag at sight. Her starry silence smote my ear Like sudden drums at night.

I ran as, at the cannon’s roar, The troops the ramparts man— As in the holy house of yore The willing Eli ran.

Here, lady, lo! that servant stands You picked from passing men, And should you need nor heart nor hands He bows and goes again.

VIII

To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre Whose favour still I wear, The snow be in her kirtle, The rose be in her hair!

The hue of highland rivers Careering, full and cool, From sable on to golden, From rapid on to pool— The hue of heather-honey, The hue of honey-bees, Shall tinge her golden shoulder, Shall gild her tawny knees.

IX

Let Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams, Beauty awake from rest! Let Beauty awake For Beauty’s sake In the hour when the birds awake in the brake And the stars are bright in the west!

Let Beauty awake in the eve from the slumber of day, Awake in the crimson eve! In the day’s dusk end When the shades ascend, Let her wake to the kiss of a tender friend To render again and receive!