Page:Stevenson - Songs of Travel (1896).djvu/57

Rh 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. 41