O, why do they hunt so hard, so hard, who have no need of food?
Do they hunt for hate? —
Do they hunt for sport? —
Do they hunt for the lust of blood?
If I were a god I would get me a spear, I would get me a horse and dog,
And merrily, merrily I would ride through covert and brake and bog–
With hound and horn and laughter loud, over the hills and away–
For there is no sport like that of a god who holds a man at bay!
O, but the morning is fresh and fair! And O, but the sun is bright!–
And yonder the quarry breaks from the bush and heads for the hills in flight;
A minute’s law for the hurried thing, then follow him, follow him fast,
With the bellow of dogs and the beat of hoofs and the mellow bugle’s blast.
Hillo!–Hallo!–we have marked a man!–there is sport in the world today!
And a clamor swells from the heart of the wood that tells of a soul at bay.
(Donald Marquis)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, God Poems, World Poems, Soul Poems, Fairness Poems, Morning Poems, Hatred Poems, Dogs Poems, Food Poems, Horse Poems, Sports PoemsBased on Keywords: hallo, hillo