Toxophilites, William Powell Frith (1872)
An Arrow for a Rake, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Spent, a straight arrow is swift and silent,
When properly placed upon hickory.
With effort soon be master of the hunt,
Able to flick the wings off of a flea.
My prime target should be an easy chore,
Though it moves ever stealthy in the night.
Often found at another’s bedroom door,
Will not be hard to get it in my sight.
The object is an arrow in its heart,
For the deep aching pain it has caused me.
Some will say my actions not very smart,
But will have joy, tho hanging from a tree.
There be nothing worse than my vengeful scorn,
That awful rake shall regret he was born.