weir of hermiston

Weir of Hermistonby Robert Louis StevensonTO MY WIFEI saw rain falling and the rainbow drawnOn Lammermuir. Hearkening I heard againIn my precipitous city beaten bellsWinnow the keen sea wind. And here afar,Intent on my own race and place, I wrote.Take thou the writing: thine it is. For whoBurnished the sword, blew on the drowsy coal,Held still the target higher, chary of praiseAnd prodigal of counsel - who but thou?So now, in the end, if this the least be good,If any deed be done, if any fireBurn in the imperfect page, the praise be thine.INTRODUCTORYIN the wild end of a moorland parish, far out of the sight of any house,...

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