Stevenson's

I will make you brooches and toys to delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night
I will make a palace fit for you and me
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea

I will grow you a garden, plant it with seeds
We'll bask in its colour and banish all weeds
And when summer is over and winter is here
By the warm fireside I'll be waiting, my dear

And this shall be music when no one else is near
The rare song I'm singing, the rare song to hear
That only I remember and only you admire
Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire