6o STEVENSON'S POEMS
Bury me low in valleys green And where the milder breeze Blows fresh along the stream, Sings roundly in the trees— Bury me low and let me lie Under the wide and starry sky. Joying to live, I joyed to die, Bury me low and let me lie.
WHAT MAN MAY LEARN, WHAT MAN MAY DO
WHAT man may learn, what man may do, Of right or wrong of false or true, While, skipper-like, his course he steers Through nine and twenty mingled years, Half misconceived and half forgot, So much I know and practise not.
Old are the words of wisdom, old The counsels of the wise and bold : To close the ears, to check the tongue, To keep the pining spirit young; To act the right, to say the true, And to be kind whate'er you do.