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Famous Rifle Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Rifle poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous rifle poems. These examples illustrate what a famous rifle poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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by Whitman, Walt
..., seated at a desk, lisping cadenzas piano; 
But as a strong man, erect, clothed in blue clothes, advancing, carrying a rifle on your
 shoulder, 
With well-gristled body and sunburnt face and hands—with a knife in the belt at your
 side,
As I heard you shouting loud—your sonorous voice ringing across the continent; 
Your masculine voice, O year, as rising amid the great cities, 
Amid the men of Manhattan I saw you, as one of the workmen, the dwellers in Manhattan; 
Or with la...Read more of this...



by Whitman, Walt
...ly ahead—I hear the irregular snap!
 snap! 
I hear the sounds of the different missiles—the short t-h-t! t-h-t! of the
 rifle
 balls; 
I see the shells exploding, leaving small white clouds—I hear the great shells
 shrieking
 as
 they pass; 
The grape, like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees, (quick, tumultuous, now the
 contest
 rages!) 
All the scenes at the batteries themselves rise in detail before me again;
The crashing and smoking—the pride of the men in their ...Read more of this...

by Whittier, John Greenleaf
...ht
He glanced; the old flag met his sight.

'Halt!' - the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
'Fire!' - out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.

She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.

'Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag,' she said.

A s...Read more of this...

by Wilcox, Ella Wheeler
...th; 
Past naked bodies whose disfiguring wounds
Spoke of the hellish hate of human hounds; 
Past bleaching skeleton and rifled grave, 
On pressed th' avenging host, to rescue and to save.

VII.

Uncertain Nature, like a fickle friend, 
(Worse than the foe on whom we may depend) 
Turned on these dauntless souls a brow of wrath
And hurled her icy jav'lins in their path.
With treacherous quicksands, and with storms that blight, 
Entrapped their footsteps and confused...Read more of this...

by Trumbull, John
...mmand,
Rush daring on our frighted band,
And ancient beards and hoary hair,
Like meteors, stream in troubled air;
While rifle-frocks drove Gen'rals cap'ring,
And Red-coats shrunk from leathern apron,
And epaulette and gorget run
From whinyard brown and rusty gun.
With locks unshorn not Samson more
Made useless all the show of war,
Nor fought with ass's jaw for rarity
With more success, or singularity.
I saw our vet'ran thousands yield,
And pile their muskets on the fi...Read more of this...



by Emerson, Ralph Waldo
...s;
Weave wood to canisters and mats,
Drain sweet maple-juice in vats.
No bird is safe that cuts the air,
From their rifle or their snare;
No fish in river or in lake,
But their long hands it thence will take;
And the country's iron face
Like wax their fashioning skill betrays,
To fill the hollows, sink the hills,
Bridge gulfs, drain swamps, build dams and mills,
And fit the bleak and howling place
For gardens of a finer race,
The world-soul knows his own affair,
Fore-look...Read more of this...

by Guillen, Rafael
...ause it's for sure
that behind it is the sea.
Not fear. Fear has a countenance;
It's external, concrete,
like a rifle, a shot bolt,
a suffering child,
like the darkness that's hidden
in every human mouth.
Not fear. Maybe only the brand
of the offspring of fear.

It's a narrow, interminable street
with all the windows darkened,
a thread spun out from a sticky hand,
friendly, yes, not a friend.
It's a nightmare
of polite ritual wearing a frightwig.
N...Read more of this...

by Emerson, Ralph Waldo
...the culture of mankind,
Of better arts and life?
Go, blindworm, go,
Behold the famous States
Harrying Mexico
With rifle and with knife!

Or who, with accent bolder,
Dare praise the freedom-loving mountaineer?
I found by thee, O rushing Contoocook!
And in thy valleys, Agiochook!
The jackals of the *****-holder.

The God who made New Hampshire
Taunted the lofty land
With little men;--
Small bat and wren
House in the oak:--
If earth-fire cleave
The upheav...Read more of this...

by Sandburg, Carl
...babbled to the deer, the cottontail, the gopher.
You came in wagons, making streets and schools,
Kin of the ax and rifle, kin of the plow and horse,
Singing Yankee Doodle, Old Dan Tucker, Turkey in the Straw,
You in the coonskin cap at a log house door hearing a lone wolf howl,
You at a sod house door reading the blizzards and chinooks let loose from Medicine Hat,
I am dust of your dust, as I am brother and mother
To the copper faces, the worker in flint and clay,
The si...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...e farmer’s wife singing; 
I hear in the distance the sounds of children, and of animals early in the day; 
I hear quick rifle-cracks from the riflemen of East Tennessee and Kentucky, hunting on
 hills;
I hear emulous shouts of Australians, pursuing the wild horse; 
I hear the Spanish dance, with castanets, in the chestnut shade, to the rebeck and guitar;

I hear continual echoes from the Thames; 
I hear fierce French liberty songs; 
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musi...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...straps on his light boots to complete in the race; 
The western turkey-shooting draws old and young—some lean on their rifles,
 some sit on logs, 
Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece;
The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee; 
As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them from his
 saddle; 
The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their partners, the
 dancers bow to each o...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...anywhere, 
The settlements of the Arkansas, Colorado, Ottawa, Willamette, 
The slow progress, the scant fare, the axe, rifle, saddle-bags;
The beauty of all adventurous and daring persons, 
The beauty of wood-boys and wood-men, with their clear untrimm’d faces, 
The beauty of independence, departure, actions that rely on themselves, 
The American contempt for statutes and ceremonies, the boundless impatience of restraint,

The loose drift of character, the inkling through ra...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...ruggled for, for life or death—fought over long, 
’Mid cannon’s thunder-crash, and many a curse, and groan and yell—and rifle-volleys
 cracking sharp, 
And moving masses, as wild demons surging—and lives as nothing risk’d, 
For thy mere remnant, grimed with dirt and smoke, and sopp’d in blood;
For sake of that, my beauty—and that thou might’st dally, as now, secure up there, 
Many a good man have I seen go under. 

14
Now here, and these, and hence, in peace all thine, O ...Read more of this...

by Kipling, Rudyard
...ng alive:
There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree,
But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee.
If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low,
The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row:
If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high,
The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly."
Lightly answered the Colonel's son: "Do good to bird and beast,
But coun...Read more of this...

by Service, Robert William
...was in his eye, and stockings on his stems.
Upon the shoulder of his coat a leather pad he wore,
To rest his deadly rifle when it wasn't seeking gore;
The which it must have often been, for Major Percy Brown,
According to his story was a hunter of renown,
Who in the Murrumbidgee wilds had stalked the kangaroo
And killed the cassowary on the plains of Timbuctoo.
And now the Arctic fox he meant to follow to its lair,
And it was also his intent to beard the Artic hare.Read more of this...

by Service, Robert William
...r> . . .

Hour after hour went by; a shadow slipped
From vasts of shadow to the camp-fire flame;
Gripping a rifle with a deadly aim,
A gaunt and hairy man with wolfish eyes . . .

* * * * * * *

The sleeper dreamed, and lo! this was his dream:
He rode a streaming horse across a moor.
Sudden 'mid pit-black night a lightning gleam
Showed him a way-side inn, forlorn and poor.
A sullen host unbarred the creaking door,
And led him to a dim and drear...Read more of this...

by Homer,
...thy daughter, priest, and shall remain;
  And prayers, and tears, and bribes, shall plead in vain;
  Till time shall rifle every youthful grace,
  And age dismiss her from my cold embrace,
  In daily labours of the loom employ'd,
  Or doom'd to deck the bed she once enjoy'd
  Hence then; to Argos shall the maid retire,
  Far from her native soil and weeping sire."...Read more of this...

by Kinnell, Galway
...>
It would have to do with the unaccomplished,
and with the attempted marriage
of solitude and happiness. Then a rifle
sounded, several times, quite loud,
from across the valley, percussions
of the custom of male mastery
over the earth ¡ª the most graceful,
most alert of the animals
being chosen to die. I looked
to see if my friend had heard,
but she was stepping about on her skis,
studying the trees, smiling to herself,
her lips still filled, for all
we...Read more of this...

by Yeats, William Butler
...s two eternities,
That of race and that of soul,
And ancient Ireland knew it all.
Whether man die in his bed
Or the rifle knocks him dead,
A brief parting from those dear
Is the worst man has to fear.
Though grave-diggers' toil is long,
Sharp their spades, their muscles strong.
They but thrust their buried men
Back in the human mind again.

 III

You that Mitchel's prayer have heard,
'Send war in our time, O Lord!'
Know that when all words are said
And a man i...Read more of this...

by Darwish, Mahmoud
...t through, you would have remembered your mother in the 
Gas chamber, you would have been freed from the reason for the rifle 
And you would have changed your mind: this is not the way 
to find one’s identity again. 

*** 
The siege is a waiting period 
Waiting on the tilted ladder in the middle of the storm. 

*** 
Alone, we are alone as far down as the sediment 
Were it not for the visits of the rainbows. 

*** 
We have brothers behind this expanse. 
Excelle...Read more of this...

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Book: Shattered Sighs