DYNAMITE
Outlaw they brand you, killer, bucking fool,
Because you spurn the hackamore and cinch;
The round-up wranglers wait with eager heart
The moment of your fall: your steel-curbed mouth
Running a rill of blood, your back worn raw
By saddle sticking like a cocklebur,
Your wild heart, broken by the quirt, subdued.
Because you spurn the hackamore and cinch;
The round-up wranglers wait with eager heart
The moment of your fall: your steel-curbed mouth
Running a rill of blood, your back worn raw
By saddle sticking like a cocklebur,
Your wild heart, broken by the quirt, subdued.
O bronco, whose will is set against the will
Of the multitude, as taut as any bowstring,
Know that another outcast will exult
If the free-born one shall pitch the sovereign many
Over the rim of sky and into darkness. . . .
Of the multitude, as taut as any bowstring,
Know that another outcast will exult
If the free-born one shall pitch the sovereign many
Over the rim of sky and into darkness. . . .
Beware!—the burlap that they strive to fling
About your head to blind you! the velvet hands
They clamp upon your ears, your quivering mouth!
About your head to blind you! the velvet hands
They clamp upon your ears, your quivering mouth!
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