Come, blunt your spear with us, our pace is hot and our bare heels in the heel-prints -- we stand tense -- do you see -- are you already beaten by the chase? We lead the pace for the wind on the hills, the low hill is spattered with loose earth -- our feet cut into the crust as with spears. We climbed the ploughed land, dragged the seed from the clefts, broke the clods with our heels, whirled with a parched cry into the woods: Can you come, can you come, can you follow the hound trail, can you trample the hot froth? Spring up -- sway forward -- follow the quickest one, aye, though you leave the trail and drop exhausted at our feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHT IN ARIZONA by SARA TEASDALE SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A CHILD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE WAKING YEAR by EMILY DICKINSON ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 52 by PHILIP SIDNEY POEMS ON THE SLAVE TRADE: 6 by ROBERT SOUTHEY RECONCILIATION by WALT WHITMAN ON BEING ASKED FOR A WAR POEM by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |