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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DEER-HUNTING (BY AN EXPERT), by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND First Line: You see I was there on the run-way Last Line: (d. V.) | |||
YOU see I was there on the run-way, Just near where it enters the lake, Couldn't get better place if I tried it, For the deer would be certain to take To the water the moment he saw it, And then I could pump in the lead At ten or a dozen yards distance, Till I couldn't help killing him dead. (Oh! 't was great sport!) (And the excitement!) There I sat watching and waiting, For maybe an hour or two, I could hear my poor heart go a-throbbing, And once, when a chipmunk drew Near to my trembling ambush, I had almost pulled trigger, when He ran up a silver birch tree, And I saw't was a chipmunk then. (But 't was great!) I could see the bright leaves of the autumn, Sprinkling the forest floor, Each leaf all bespattered with crimson, As if dipt in the blood of more Than a thousand innocent victims. But, pshaw! 't was the frost and rain, So I said to myself, "Old fellow, Brace up! Be a man again!" (And I braced.) Then suddenly, over the hill-side, Where the hounds killed a fawn last year, An echo kept ringing, ringing, 'T was the baying of "Chanticleer." "He's got him at last," I murmur, "And the old dog will make him jump," So my hold on the rifle tightened, While my heart went thumpity-thump. (Holy murder!) Here he comes down the pathway, Good Lord! how he must have run! But with "Chanty" let out on the home- stretch, Don't suppose he enjoyed the fun, Hardly able to bring his legs with him. Well! don't get excited yet! Just wait till he reaches the water, Then fill him before he gets wet. Keep still! Why! I can hear him breathing, And now he has passed so close, The point of the rifle could touch him, And easily give him a dose. Just see how he jumped when he smelt me, And look how he struggles and pants, But I'll wait till he gets to the water, And give the poor devil a chance, (That's right, isn't it?) And now he has entered the water, And when he has gone ten yards or so, I bang away, bang! with the Marlin Till I find I've killed a doe. But a nice little doe I can tell you, Is better than nothing at all, So if Providence only spares me, I'll try it again next fall. (D. V.) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A RAINY DAY IN CAMP by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND AUTUMN DAYS by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BARBOTTE (BULL-POUT) by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BATEESE THE LUCKY MAN by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BLOOM - A SONG OF COBALT by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BOULE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BRUNO THE HUNTER by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND CANADIAN FOREVER by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND CAUDA MORRHUAE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |
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