Read XXVII — To The Muse of Songs of Travel and other verses, free online book, by Robert Louis Stevenson, on ReadCentral.com.

   Resign the rhapsody, the dream,
      To men of larger reach;
   Be ours the quest of a plain theme,
      The piety of speech.

   As monkish scribes from morning break
      Toiled till the close of light,
   Nor thought a day too long to make
      One line or letter bright: 

   We also with an ardent mind,
      Time, wealth, and fame forgot,
   Our glory in our patience find
      And skim, and skim the pot: 

   Till last, when round the house we hear
      The evensong of birds,
   One corner of blue heaven appear
      In our clear well of words.

   Leave, leave it then, muse of my heart! 
      Sans finish and sans frame,
   Leave unadorned by needless art
      The picture as it came.

GO TO: XXVI — My Wife
GO TO: XXVIII — To An Island Princess