Explore "It's Forth Across the Roaring Foam" by Robert Louis Stevenson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west, / It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest, / From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold, / To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold.
Where all the deep-sea galleons ride that come to bring the corn, / Where falls the fog at eventide and blows the breeze at morn; / It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold, / In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way, / Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day; / Afar before me forth he went, as through the sands of old, / And chose the friends to help me beside the Gates of Gold.
I have been near, I have been far, my back's been at the wall, / Yet aye and ever shone the star to guide me through it all: / The love of God, the help of man, they both shall make me bold / Against the gates of darkness as beside the Gates of Gold.