Showing posts with label Poetry of Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry of Death. Show all posts

Requiem (Robert Louis Stevenson, 1850-1894)


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;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
________________________
"Requiem," An Anthology of Modern Verse. Ed. A. Methuen. London: Methuen & Co., 1921.

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