THE savage by primeval Thames, Lurking, the mammoth to waylay, Amid the awful forest stems, On some far, dim, forgotten day, As that vast bulk of brawn and beef Squelched off unscathed through lone morasses, Would turn, I doubt not, with relief To where you scuttled in the grasses! Perhaps my cave-man blood's to blame, For—atavistic taint—I too Have dropped a more exacting game, Bunny, to have a bang at you; The driven partridge missed in front, And eke behind, lacks serious merit Beside a sunny hedgerow hunt, A terrier and an active ferret! Give me a summer afternoon, An air-gun and the drone of bees, The water-meadows lush with June, A stalk among the Alderneys; Then, hit or miss, I care no-ways, In such surroundings I consider You're worth a hundred storm-swept braes And all the royals in Balquidder! Indeed, wherever I may go, Through summer woods, by wintry fell, I've found you, in the sun or snow, A friendly little Ishmael; Along the southern trout-stream banks, Or with the ptarmigan consorting, You've always earned my grateful thanks, And in all seasons acted sporting! Hushed is the hairy mammoths' roar And gone the mastodon uncouth Down to decay with dinosaur, Aurochs, and fearsome sabre-tooth; But you, small beast in hodden-gray, Survive, and will, I take for granted, Be here when I am dust, to play In moonlit covers still unplanted! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEAD LEAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM DR. SCUDDER'S CLINICAL LECTURE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS GRATIANA DANCING AND SINGING by RICHARD LOVELACE IN A COPY OF OMAR KHAYYAM by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE SUMMER IS ENDED (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 7. SUPREME SURRENDER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |