GOOD hunting! -- aye, good hunting, Wherever the forests call; But ever a heart beats hot with fear, And what of the birds that fall? Good hunting! -- aye, good hunting, Wherever the north winds blow; But what of the stag that calls for his mate? And what of the wounded doe? Good hunting! -- aye, good hunting; And ah! we are bold and strong; But our triumph call through the forest hall Is a brother's funeral song. For we are brothers ever, Panther and bird and bear; Man and the weakest that fear his face, Born to the nest or lair. Yes, brothers, and who shall judge us? Hunters and game are we; But who gave the right for me to smite? Who boasts when he smiteth me? Good hunting! -- aye, good hunting, And dim is the forest track; But the sportsman Death comes striding on: Brothers, the way is black. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEBT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR EPITAPH ON AN ARMY OF MERCENARIES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE DAUGHTER OF MENDOZA by MIRABEAU BONAPARTE LAMAR BILLY, HE'S IN TROUBLE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS DEATH AT DAYBREAK by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH CRADLE SONG by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |