IN my Spanish cloak, And old slouch hat, And overshoes of felt, And Tyke, my faithful dog, And my knotted hickory cane, I slipped about with a bull's-eye lantern From door to door on the square, As the midnight stars wheeled round, And the bell in the steeple murmured From the blowing of the wind; And the weary steps of old Doc Hill Sounded like one who walks in sleep, And a far-off rooster crew. And now another is watching Spoon River As others watched before me. And here we lie, Doc Hill and I Where none breaks through and steals, And no eye needs to guard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROLONGED SONNET: WHEN THE TROOPS WERE RETURNING FROM MILAN by NICCOLO DEGLI ALBIZZI ON SOMETHING THAT WALKS SOMEWHERE by BEN JONSON THE POTATOES' DANCE by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY TIMES GO BY TURNS by ROBERT SOUTHWELL |