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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE RIFLE, by COVINGTON HALL First Line: Tis made of hard, death-tempered steel Last Line: The message men to tyrants speak! Alternate Author Name(s): Ami, Covington; Ami, Covami Subject(s): Arms & Armor; Assassination; Death; Militarism; Murder; Rifles; Social Protest; War; Weapons; Ammunition; Dead, The | |||
'Tis made of hard, death-tempered steel, This "right" of those that never feel; It gleams before their altars cold, The menace of the gods of gold. It hisses to the slave, "Be still!" Or wreaks assassination's will; It bears upon its blighting breath The message of the lords of death. In shadowed mine and silent wood, It stills the voice of brotherhood; It stains with grief the mother-face; It murders hope; it starves the race. It frightens girlhood down the night Where glows the baleful crimson light; It binds the chains on baby slaves, This death-tool in the hands of knaves. Listen, O My Masters! Hear me, ye who "shoot to kill," It may not always wreak your will! Beware! Beware its rebel shriek The message men to tyrants speak! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND TO HELEN KELLER by COVINGTON HALL DRUMS AND BRASS by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 22 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |
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