RequiemI have just discovered that A.E. Housman, another poet I greatly admire, has a similar poem. As best I can tell, Housman wrote this in admiration of, or as a tribute to Stevenson.
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you 'grave for me:
Here he lies where he long'd to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Strange that I should have read so much of both their poetry and never have made the connection.
Home Is the Sailor
by A.E. Housman
Home is the sailor, home from sea:
Her far-borne canvas furled
The ship pours shining on the quay
The plunder of the world.
Home is the hunter from the hill:
Fast in the boundless snare
All flesh lies taken at his will
And every fowl of air.
'Tis evening on the moorland free,
The starlit wave is still:
Home is the sailor from the sea,
The hunter from the hill.