Clan Mackay WA - Scottish Poetry 2

Scottish (Lowland) Poetry 2 - Robert Louis Stevenson

Although Robert Louis Stevenson is best known for his novels, I was first introduce to him through his children's poems first published in 1885 'A Childs Garden of Verses' and have included a few favourites written in English along with a few verses written in Lowland Scottish from 'Underwood'.

Robert Louis Stevenson was born in Edinburgh, in November 1850. He first studied engineering at Edinburgh University, but abandoned it in favour of the law. However, he never practiced, having decided at the age of twenty one, that he would be a writer.

From a Railway Carriage [1885]

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,

Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;

And charging along like troops in a battle

All through the meadows the horses and cattle:

All of the sights of the hill and the plain

Fly as thick as driving rain;

And ever again, in the wink of an eye,

Painted stations whistle by.

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,

All by himself and gathering brambles;

Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;

And here is the green for stringing the daisies!

Here is a cart runaway in the road

Lumping along with man and load;

And here is a mill, and there is a river:

Each a glimpse and gone forever!

As a child, Stevenson suffered from tuberculosis and spent much time in bed. This influenced a fertile imagination. In his book 'A Child`s Garden Of Verses' the feelings of the young Robert are tangible. The book was devoted to Alison Cunningham, his childhood nurse.

Goodnight [1885]

Then the bright lamp is carried in,

The sunless hours again begin;

O'er all without, in field and lane,

The haunted night returns again.

Now we behold the embers flee

About the firelit hearth; and see

Our faces painted as we pass,

Like pictures, on the window glass.

Must we to bed indeed? Well then,

Let us arise and go like men,

And face with an undaunted tread

The long black passage up to bed.

Farewell, O brother, sister, sire!

O pleasant party round the fire!

The songs you sing, the tales you tell,

Till far to-morrow, fare you well!

Robert began writing fiction in short stories, his first novel 'Treasure Island' was published in 1883 and in 1886 he had more success with this style in the novel 'Kidnapped' based on his distant ancestor David Balfour.

The Land of Counterpane [1885]

When I was sick and lay a-bed,

I had two pillows at my head,

And all my toys beside me lay,

To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so

I watched my leaden soldiers go,

With different uniforms and drills,

Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets

All up and down among the sheets;

Or brought my trees and houses out,

And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still

That sits upon the pillow-hill,

And sees before him, dale and plain,

The pleasant land of counterpane.

Stevenson wrote vividly about his native land and some of his most effective poems owe much to the pain of absence. Stevenson also wrote lyric, comic and narrative poems in both Scots and English, published in 'Underwoods' (1887) and 'Ballads' (1890). In 1971 Janet Adam Smith edited his 'Collected Poems'.

"It's an Owercome Sooth for Age an' Youth"

It's an owercome sooth for age an' youth

And it brooks wi' nae denial,

That the dearest friends are the auldest friends

And the young are just on trial.

There's a rival bauld wi' young an' auld

And it's him that has bereft me;

For the surest friends are the auldest friends

And the maist o' mines hae left me.

There are kind hearts still, for friends to fill

And fools to take and break them;

But the nearest friends are the auldest friends

And the grave's the place to seek them

RLS is known for a number of famous quotes such as; Man does not live by words alone, despite the fact that sometimes he has to eat them! And; There was a time when a fool and his money were soon parted, but now it happens to everybody.

The Maker to Posterity [1887]

Far `yont amang the years to be

When a' we think, an' a' we see,

An' a' we luve, `s been dung ajee

By time's rouch shouther,

An' what was richt and wrang for me

Lies mangled throu'ther,

It's possible - it's hardly mair -

That some ane, ripin' after lear -

Some auld professor or young heir,

If still there's either -

May find an' read me, an' be sair

Perplexed, puir brither!

"What tongue does your auld bookie speak?"

He'll spier; an' I, his mou to steik:

"No bein' fit to write in Greek,

I write in Lallan,

Dear to my heart as the peat reek,

Auld as Tantallon.

"Few spak it then, an' noo there's nane.

My puir auld sangs lie a' their lane,

Their sense, that aince was braw an' plain,

Tint a'thegether,

Like runes upon a standin' stane

Amang the heather.

"But think not you the brae to speel;

You, tae, maun chow the bitter peel;

For a' your lear, for a' your skeel,

Ye're nane sae lucky;

An' things are mebbe waur than weel

For you, my buckie.

"The hale concern (baith hens an' eggs,

Baith books an' writers, stars an' clegs)

Noo stachers upon lowsent legs

An' wears awa';

The tack o' mankind, near the dregs,

Rins unco law.

"Your book, that in some braw new tongue,

Ye wrote or prentit, preached or sung,

Will still be just a bairn, an' young

In fame an' years,

Whan the hale planet's guts are dung

About your ears;

"An' you, sair gruppin' to a spar

Or whammled wi' some bleezin' star,

Cryin' to ken whaur deil ye are,

Hame, France, or Flanders -

Whang sindry like a railway car

An' flie in danders."

Robert Louis Stevenson was at the height of his powers when he died suddenly in Samoa in 1894. For a long period he was thought of mainly as the writer of adventure stories for children, but now there is growing recognition of his subtle and surprisingly modern explorations of dilemmas of character and action. As in the 'Strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde'.

The Spaewife [1887]

O, I wad like to ken - to the beggar-wife says I -

Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.

An' siller, that's sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi'e.