There was no hunted one
With whom I did not run,
There was no fainting heart
With which I had not part;
The baying hounds bayed me,
Though it was I was free.
Where’er the hard-prest ran,
Was it or beast or man,
As step by step they went,
My breath with them was spent;
The very ant I bruised,
My heart held interfused.
(Dame Mary Gilmore DBE)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Running PoemsBased on Keywords: baying, bayed, interfused, hard-prest