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;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,

And the hunter home from the hill.

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Return to the Robert Louis Stevenson Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Land of Counterpane