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According to camelot.celtic-twilight.com, “Madison Cawein was the leading American nature poet of his day”.
According to britannica.com, “Madison Cawein wrote more than 30 books of verse dealing with the scenes and people of his native Kentucky. The influence of Romanticism on his work earned him the label Keats of Kentucky”.
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(Print poem and do activity on paper) (pdf file - 74 KB)
The woods stretch wild to the mountain side,
And the brush is deep where a man may hide,
They have brought the bloodhounds up again
To the roadside rock where they found the slain.
They have brought the bloodhounds up, and they
Have taken the trail to the mountain way.
Three times they circled the trail and crossed,
And thrice they found it and thrice they lost.
Now straight through the pines and the underbrush
They follow the scent through the forest's hush.
And their deep-mouthed bay is a pulse of fear
In the heart of the wood that the man must hear.
The man who crouches among the trees
From the stern-faced men that follow these.
A huddle of rocks that the ooze has mossed—
And the trail of the hunted again is lost.
An upturned pebble; a bit of ground
A heel has trampled—the trail is found.
And the woods re-echo the bloodhounds' bay
As again they take to the mountain way.
A rock; a ribbon of road; a ledge,
With a pine-tree clutching its crumbling edge.
A pine, that the lightning long since clove,
Whose huge roots hollow a ragged cave.
A shout; a curse; and a face aghast,
And the human quarry is laired at last.
The human quarry, with clay-clogged hair
And eyes of terror, who waits them there;
That glares and crouches and rising then
Hurls clods and curses at dogs and men.
Until the blow of a gun-butt lays
Him stunned and bleeding upon his face.
A rope, a prayer, and an oak-tree near.
And a score of hands to swing him clear.
A grim black thing for the setting sun
And the moon and the stars to look upon.
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Write a poem about a hunt of some kind. Send it to us.
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Untitled
Tell me,
Your worst secret
Tell me,
Your best nightmare
Tell me,
What you do when you are alone
Tell me,
Your dirtiest pleasure
Tell me everything
Everything that you do not dare to tell to anyone
Because this is the best sport
The hunting of your thoughts.
Eric Ramirez Rodriguez
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