Requiem

Under the wide and starry sky,

Dig the grave and let me lie.

Glad did I live and gladly die,

And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:

'Here he lies where he longed to be;

Here is the sailor, home from the sea,

And the hunter home from the hill.'

Robert Louis Stevenson

From a Railway Carriage

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,

Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches,;

And charging along like troops in a battle,

All through the meadows the horses and cattle

All of the sights of the hill and the plain

Fly as thick as driving rain;

And ever again, in the wink of an eye,

Painted stations whistle by.

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,

All by himself and gathering brambles;

Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;

And there is the green for stringing the daisies!

Here is a cart run away in the road

Lumping along with man and load;

And here is a mill, and there is a river

Each a glimpse and gone forever!

Robert Louis Stevenson