Shooting Pains
If I shoot any more I'll be shot,For ill-luck seems determined to star me,I have march'd the whole dayWith a gun,--for no pay--Zounds, I'd better have been in the army!
What matters Sir Christopher's leave;To his manor I'm sorry I came yet!With confidence fraughtMy two pointers I brought,But we are not a point towards game yet!
And that gamekeeper too, with advice!Of my course he has been a nice chalker,Not far, were his words,I could go without birds:If my legs could cry out, they'd cry "Walker!"
Not Hawker could find out a flaw,--My appointments are modern and Mantony;And I've brought my own man,To mark down all he can,But I can't find a mark for my Anthony!
The partridges,--where can they lie?I have promis'd a leash to Miss Jervas,As the least I could do;But without even twoTo brace me,--I'm getting quite nervous!
To the pheasants--how well they're preserv'd!--My sport's not a jot more beholden,As the birds are so shy,For my friends I must buy,And so send "silver pheasants and golden."
I have tried ev'ry form for a hare,Every patch, every furze that could shroud her,With toil unrelax'd,Till my patience is tax'd,But I cannot be tax'd for hare-powder.
I've been roaming for hours in three flats,In the hope of a snipe for a snap at;But still vainly I courtThe percussioning sport,I find nothing for "setting my cap at!"
A woodcock,--this month is the time,--Right and left I've made ready my lock for,With well-loaded double,But 'spite of my trouble,Neither barrel can I find a cock for!
A rabbit I should not despise,But they lurk in their burrows so lowly;This day's the eleventh,It is not the seventh,But they seem to be keeping it hole-y.
For a mallard I've waded the marsh,And haunted each pool, and each lake--oh!Mine is not the luck,To obtain thee, O Duck,Or to doom thee, O Drake, like a Draco!
For a field-fare I've fared far a-field,Large or small I am never to sack bird,Not a thrush is so kindAs to fly, and I findI may whistle myself for a black-bird!
I am angry, I'm hungry, I'm dry,Disappointed, and sullen, and goaded,And so weary an elf,I am sick of myself,And with Number One seem overloaded.
As well one might beat round St. Paul's,And look out for a cock or a hen there;I have search'd round and round,All the Baronet's ground,But Sir Christopher hasn't a wren there!
Joyce may talk of his excellent caps,But for nightcaps they set me desiring,And it's really too bad,Not a shot I have hadWith Hall's Powder renown'd for "quick firing."
If this is what people call sport,Oh! of sporting I can't have a high sense;And there still remains oneMore mischance on my gun--"Fined for shooting without any licence."
Words in this poem
- zounds interj.
- An exclamation formerly used as an oath, and an expression of anger or wonder. [Contracted from God's wounds.]
- fraught n.
- A freight; a cargo. [OE.fraight, fraght; akin to Dan. fragt, Sw. frakt, D. vracht, G. fracht, cf. OHG. fr merit, reward; perh. from corresponding to E. for + The root of E. own. Cf.]
- gamekeeper n.
- One who has the care of game, especially in a park or preserve.
- beholden p. a.
- Obliged; bound in gratitude; indebted. [Old p. p. of behold, used in the primitive sense of the simple verb hold.]
- woodcock n.
- Any one of several species of long-billed limicoline birds belonging to the genera Scolopax and Philohela. They are mostly nocturnal in their habits, and are highly esteemed as game birds. [AS. wuducoc.]
- despise v. t.
- To look down upon with disfavor or contempt; to contemn; to scorn; to disdain; to have a low opinion or contemptuous dislike of. [OF. despis-, in some forms of despire to despise, fr. L. despicere, despectum, to look down upon, despise; de- + spicere, specere, to look. See Spy, and cf. Des]
- mallard n.
- A drake; the male of Anas boschas. [F. malari,fr. mâle male + -art =-ard. See Male, a., and -ard.]
- haunted a.
- Inhabited by, or subject to the visits of, apparitions; frequented by a ghost.
- drake n.
- The male of the duck kind. [Akin to LG. drake, OHG. antrache, anetrecho, G. enterich, Icel. andriki, Dan. andrik, OSw. andrak, andrage, masc., and fr. AS. ened, fem., duck; akin to D. eend]
- draco n.
- The Dragon, a northern constellation within which is the north pole of the ecliptic. [L. See Dragon.]
- angry a.
- Troublesome; vexatious; rigorous. [See Anger.]
- disappointed a.
- Defeated of expectation or hope; balked; as, a disappointed person or hope.
- sullen a.
- Lonely; solitary; desolate. Wyclif (Job iii. 14). [OE. solein, solain, lonely, sullen; through Old French fr. (assumed) LL. solanus solitary, fr. L. solus alone. See Sole, a.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Shooting Pains is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood, Project Gutenberg ebook #15652; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Thomas Hood, Shooting Pains, in The Song of the Shirt, and Other Poems (1826–1845), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #15652, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hood-poetical-works/shooting-pains.html, id L20204.
Form and metre
Shooting Pains is 80 lines in 16 stanzas of 5 lines each. The metre is anapaestic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
See other poems in anapaestic trimeter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 --AA- shot · me · dayA · payA · army
- 2 -ABBA leave · yetA · fraughtB · broughtB · yetA
- 3 -ABBA advice · chalkerA · wordsB · birdsB · walkerA
- 4 --AA- flaw · mantony · manA · canA · anthony
- 5 --AA- lie · jervas · doA · twoA · nervous
- 6 -ABBA preserv'd · beholdenA · shyB · buyB · goldenA
- 7 --AA- hare · her · unrelax'dA · tax'dA · powder
- 8 -ABBA flats · atA · courtB · sportB · atA
- 9 -ABBA time · forA · doubleB · troubleB · forA
- 10 --AA- despise · lowly · eleventhA · seventhA · y
- 11 --AA- marsh · oh · luckA · duckA · draco
- 12 -ABBA field · birdA · kindB · findB · birdA
- 13 -ABBA dry · goadedA · elfB · myselfB · overloadedA
- 14 -ABBA paul's · thereA · roundB · groundB · thereA
- 15 --AA- caps · desiring · badA · hadA · firing
- 16 -ABBA sport · senseA · oneB · gunB · licenceA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against anapaestic trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| If I shoot any more I'll be shot, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| For ill-luck seems determined to star me, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| I have march'd the whole day | 6 | ······ |
| With a gun,--for no pay-- | 6 | ······ |
| Zounds, I'd better have been in the army! | 10 | ··/˘····/˘ |
| What matters Sir Christopher's leave; | 8 | ·/˘·/˘˘· |
| To his manor I'm sorry I came yet! | 10 | ··/˘·/˘··· |
| With confidence fraught | 5 | ·/˘˘· |
| My two pointers I brought, | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| But we are not a point towards game yet! | 10 | ·········· |
| And that gamekeeper too, with advice! | 9 | ··/·˘··˘/ |
| Of my course he has been a nice chalker, | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Not far, were his words, | 5 | ····· |
| I could go without birds: | 6 | ······ |
| If my legs could cry out, they'd cry "Walker!" | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Not Hawker could find out a flaw,-- | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| My appointments are modern and Mantony; | 11 | ·˘/˘·/˘···· |
| And I've brought my own man, | 6 | ······ |
| To mark down all he can, | 6 | ······ |
| But I can't find a mark for my Anthony! | 11 | ········/˘˘ |
| The partridges,--where can they lie? | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| I have promis'd a leash to Miss Jervas, | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| As the least I could do; | 6 | ······ |
| But without even two | 6 | ···/˘· |
| To brace me,--I'm getting quite nervous! | 9 | ····/˘·/˘ |
| To the pheasants--how well they're preserv'd!-- | 9 | ··/˘···˘/ |
| My sport's not a jot more beholden, | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| As the birds are so shy, | 6 | ······ |
| For my friends I must buy, | 6 | ······ |
| And so send "silver pheasants and golden." | 10 | ···/˘/˘·/˘ |
| I have tried ev'ry form for a hare, | 9 | ········· |
| Every patch, every furze that could shroud her, | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| With toil unrelax'd, | 5 | ····· |
| Till my patience is tax'd, | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| But I cannot be tax'd for hare-powder. | 10 | ··/˘····/˘ |
| I've been roaming for hours in three flats, | 10 | ··/˘·/˘··· |
| In the hope of a snipe for a snap at; | 10 | ·········· |
| But still vainly I court | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| The percussioning sport, | 6 | ·˘/˘˘· |
| I find nothing for "setting my cap at!" | 10 | ··/˘·/˘··· |
| A woodcock,--this month is the time,-- | 8 | ·/······ |
| Right and left I've made ready my lock for, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| With well-loaded double, | 6 | ··/˘/˘ |
| But 'spite of my trouble, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| Neither barrel can I find a cock for! | 10 | /˘/˘······ |
| A rabbit I should not despise, | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| But they lurk in their burrows so lowly; | 10 | ·····/˘·/˘ |
| This day's the eleventh, | 6 | ···˘/˘ |
| It is not the seventh, | 6 | ····/˘ |
| But they seem to be keeping it hole-y. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| For a mallard I've waded the marsh, | 9 | ··/˘·/˘·· |
| And haunted each pool, and each lake--oh! | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| Mine is not the luck, | 5 | ····· |
| To obtain thee, O Duck, | 6 | ·˘/··· |
| Or to doom thee, O Drake, like a Draco! | 10 | ········/˘ |
| For a field-fare I've fared far a-field, | 9 | ········· |
| Large or small I am never to sack bird, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Not a thrush is so kind | 6 | ······ |
| As to fly, and I find | 6 | ······ |
| I may whistle myself for a black-bird! | 10 | ··/˘·/···· |
| I am angry, I'm hungry, I'm dry, | 9 | ··/˘·/˘·· |
| Disappointed, and sullen, and goaded, | 10 | ·˘/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| And so weary an elf, | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| I am sick of myself, | 6 | ·····/ |
| And with Number One seem overloaded. | 10 | ··/˘··/˘·˘ |
| As well one might beat round St. Paul's, | 8 | ········ |
| And look out for a cock or a hen there; | 10 | ·········· |
| I have search'd round and round, | 6 | ······ |
| All the Baronet's ground, | 6 | ···˘/· |
| But Sir Christopher hasn't a wren there! | 10 | ··/˘˘/˘··· |
| Joyce may talk of his excellent caps, | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| But for nightcaps they set me desiring, | 11 | ·······˘/˘˘ |
| And it's really too bad, | 6 | ··/˘·· |
| Not a shot I have had | 6 | ······ |
| With Hall's Powder renown'd for "quick firing." | 10 | ··/˘˘/··/˘ |
| If this is what people call sport, | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Oh! of sporting I can't have a high sense; | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| And there still remains one | 6 | ···˘/· |
| More mischance on my gun-- | 6 | ·˘/··· |
| "Fined for shooting without any licence." | 10 | ··/˘··/˘/˘ |
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