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!