Lucius Harwood Foote

  • Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep—
    Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze,
    It drifts o’er sultry leagues of tropic seas,
    Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep.
    When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep,
    From their far rhythmic...

  • Tinged with the blood of Aztec lands,
    Sphinx-like, the tawny herdsman stands,
    A coiled reata in his hands.
    Devoid of hope, devoid of fear,
    Half brigand and half cavalier,—
    This helot, with imperial grace,
    Wears ever on his tawny face
    A sad...

  • Don juan has ever the grand old air,
    As he greets me with courtly grace;
    Like a crown of glory the snow-white hair
    That halos his swarthy face;
    And he says, with a courtesy rare and fine,
    As he ushers me in at the door,
    “Panchita mia will bring us...

  • He crawls along the mountain walls,
    From whence the severed river falls;
    Its seething waters writhe and twist,
    Then leap, and crumble into mist.
    Midway between two boundless seas,
    Prone on a ragged reef he lies;
    Above him bend the shoreless skies,...

  • Something more than the lilt of the strain,
      Something more than the touch of the lute;
    For the voice of the minstrel is vain,
      If the heart of the minstrel is mute.