The Land of Story-Books
At evening when the lamp is lit,Around the fire my parents sit;They sit at home and talk and sing,And do not play at anything.
Now, with my little gun, I crawlAll in the dark along the wall,And follow round the forest trackAway behind the sofa back.
There, in the night, where none can spy,All in my hunter's camp I lie,And play at books that I have readTill it is time to go to bed.
These are the hills, these are the woods,These are my starry solitudes;And there the river by whose brinkThe roaring lions come to drink.
I see the others far awayAs if in firelit camp they lay,And I, like to an Indian scout,Around their party prowled about.
So when my nurse comes in for me,Home I return across the sea,And go to bed with backward looksAt my dear land of Story-books.
Words in this poem
- crawl v. i.
- To move slowly by drawing the body along the ground, as a worm; to move slowly on hands and kness; to creep. [Dan. kravle, or Icel. krafla, to paw, scrabble with the hands; akin to Sw. kr to crawl; cf. LG. krabbeln, D. krabbelen to scratch.]
- starry a.
- Abounding with stars; adorned with stars.
- brink n.
- The edge, margin, or border of a steep place, as of a precipice; a bank or edge, as of a river or pit; a verge; a border; as, the brink of a chasm. Also Fig. [Dan. brink edge, verge; akin to Sw. brink declivity, hill, Icel. brekka; cf. LG. brink a grassy hill, W. bryn hill, bryncyn hillock.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Land of Story-Books is in the public domain. This text is taken from A Child's Garden of Verses, Project Gutenberg ebook #136; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Louis Stevenson, The Land of Story-Books, in A Child's Garden of Verses (1885), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #136, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/stevenson-childs-garden/the-land-of-story-books.html, id L07219.
Form and metre
The Land of Story-Books is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. Every stanza rhymes AABB. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 93%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABB litA · sitA · singB · anythingB
- 2 AABB crawlA · wallA · trackB · backB
- 3 AABB spyA · lieA · readB · bedB
- 4 AABB woodsA · solitudesA · brinkB · drinkB
- 5 AABB awayA · layA · scoutB · aboutB
- 6 AABB meA · seaA · looksB · booksB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| At evening when the lamp is lit, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Around the fire my parents sit; | 8 | ···/·/˘· |
| They sit at home and talk and sing, | 8 | ········ |
| And do not play at anything. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Now, with my little gun, I crawl | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| All in the dark along the wall, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| And follow round the forest track | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Away behind the sofa back. | 8 | ˘/···/˘· |
| There, in the night, where none can spy, | 8 | ········ |
| All in my hunter's camp I lie, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And play at books that I have read | 8 | ········ |
| Till it is time to go to bed. | 8 | ········ |
| These are the hills, these are the woods, | 8 | ········ |
| These are my starry solitudes; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And there the river by whose brink | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The roaring lions come to drink. | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| I see the others far away | 8 | ···/˘·˘/ |
| As if in firelit camp they lay, | 9 | ········· |
| And I, like to an Indian scout, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Around their party prowled about. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| So when my nurse comes in for me, | 8 | ········ |
| Home I return across the sea, | 8 | ··˘/˘/·· |
| And go to bed with backward looks | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| At my dear land of Story-books. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.