The Land of Nod

Robert Louis Stevenson(1850–1894)

1885

FROM breakfast on through all the dayAt home among my friends I stay;But every night I go abroadAfar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I have to go,With none to tell me what to do—All alone beside the streamsAnd up the mountain-sides of dreams.

The strangest things are there for me,Both things to eat and things to see,And many frightening sights abroadTill morning in the land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way,I never can get back by day,Nor can remember plain and clearThe curious music that I hear.

From A Child's Garden of Verses (1885), via the English Wikisource transcription.

Public domainThis poem is in the public domain. You may read it, copy it, recite it and publish it without asking anyone.