Lewis Frank Tooker

  • What seek’st thou at this madman’s pace?
    “I seek my love’s new dwelling place:
    Her house is dark, her doors are wide,
    There bat and owl and beetle bide,
    And there, breast-high, the rank weeds grow,
    And drowsy poppies nod and blow.
    So mount I swift...

  • In a tangled, scented hollow,
    On a bed of crimson roses,
    Stilly now the wind reposes;
    Hardly can the breezes borrow
    Breath to stir the night-swept river.
    Motionless the water-sedges,
    And within the dusky hedges
    Sounds no leaf’s impatient...

  • That night I think that no one slept;
      No bells were struck, no whistle blew,
    And when the watch was changed I crept
      From man to man of all the crew
    With whispered orders. Though we swept
      Through roaring seas, we hushed the clock,
      And...