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Home  »  The English Poets  »  Evensong

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850–1894)

Evensong

THE EMBERS of the day are red

Beyond the murky hill.

The kitchen smokes; the bed

In the darkling house is spread:

The great sky darkens overhead,

And the great woods are shrill.

So far have I been led,

Lord, by thy will:

So far I have followed, Lord, and wondered still.

The breeze from the embalmèd land

Blows sudden towards the shore,

And claps my cottage door.

I hear the signal, Lord—I understand.

The night at thy command

Comes. I will eat and sleep and will not question more.

VAILIMA.