Fly, rider of sun fire, Bronzed wind of the plain! Unbitted your wiry Hackamore rein— It is free as rough locks Of a mustang’s mane, While you whirl and untwirl And whirl once again, With flashes of war-whoops And rattle of chain. You wind the wide circles The reata sings— Curves of snake-twisted quirts That the mad wind swings!— Swift as cloud-flying dust That hisses and stings, Wild as crack of romal Or bull-whip that rings! Hi! Broncho-buster, cow-puncher, Chaps… sombrero… and wings!
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