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Leaves of Grass (1881-82)
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THE OX-TAMER.
IN a far-away northern county in the placid pastoral region, |
Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my recitative, a famous
tamer of oxen,
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There they bring him the three-year-olds and the four-year-olds to
break them,
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He will take the wildest steer in the world and break him and
tame him,
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He will go fearless without any whip where the young bullock
chafes up and down the yard,
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The bullock's head tosses restless high in the air with raging eyes, |
Yet see you! how soon his rage subsides—how soon this tamer
tames him;
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See you! on the farms hereabout a hundred oxen young and old,
and he is the man who has tamed them,
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They all know him, all are affectionate to him; |
See you! some are such beautiful animals, so lofty looking; |
Some are buff-color'd, some mottled, one has a white line running
along his back, some are brindled,
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Some have wide flaring horns (a good sign)—see you! the
bright hides,
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See, the two with stars on their foreheads—see, the round bodies
and broad backs,
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How straight and square they stand on their legs—what fine
sagacious eyes!
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How they watch their tamer—they wish him near them—how
they turn to look after him!
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What yearning expression! how uneasy they are when he moves
away from them;
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Now I marvel what it can be he appears to them, (books, politics,
poems, depart—all else departs,)
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I confess I envy only his fascination—my silent, illiterate friend, |
Whom a hundred oxen love there in his life on farms, |
In the northern county far, in the placid pastoral region. |
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