Crossing the Plains
by Joaquin Miller (1837-1913) |
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WHAT great yoked brutes with briskets low,
With
wrinkled necks like buffalo,
With round, brown, liquid,
pleading eyes,
That turned so slow and sad to you,
That shone like love's eyes soft with tears,
That seemed
to plead, and make replies,
The while they bowed their
necks and drew
The creaking load; and looked at you.
Their sable briskets swept the ground,
Their cloven feet
kept solemn sound.
Two sullen bullocks led the line,
Their great eyes shining bright like wine;
Two sullen
captive kings were they,
That had in time held herds at
bay,
And even now they crushed the sod
With stolid
sense of majesty,
And stately stepped and stately trod,
As if 't were something still to be
Kings even in
captivity. |
By Joaquin Miller (1837-1913)
Listed January 26, 2013 |
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