ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

And this shall be for music when no one else is near, The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear J That only I remember, that only you admire, Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.

��#47. In the Highlands

TN the highlands, in the country places,

• Where the old plain men have rosy faces,

And the young fair maidens

Quiet eyes;

Where essential silence cheers and blesses, And for ever in the hill-recesses Her more lovely music Broods and dies

O to mount again where erst I haunted ; Where the old red hills are bird-enchanted, And the low green meadows

Bright with sward ;

And when even dies, the million-tinted, And the night has come, and planets glinted, Lo, the valley hollow Lamp-bestarr'd !

O to dream, O to awake and wander There, and with delight to take and render, Through the trance of silence,

Quiet breath !

Lo ! for there, among the flowers and grasses, Only the mightier movement sounds and passes ; Only winds and rivers,

Life and death.

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