So! breakers of broncos! With miles of jagged wire,
You seek to break the spirit of this range;
With lariat of barbed-wire fence, you hope
To tame its heart, and with your iron heel,
Hot from the desert, to sear upon its hip
Your molten brand—as wranglers at a round up,
With bit and spur and lasso, strive to curb
And brand an outlaw fresh from winter range.
O breaker of broncos, listen! Can't you hear
The northwind snickering at you? The coyote
Upon the mesa, jeering? The waterfall
Chuckling among the rocks? The croaking magpie,
The hooting owl, the crane, the curlew? Look!
The chokecherry blossom, the sage, the bitterroot,
Bending with mirth, wag their heads, and laugh
At you! Why, even the broomtail cayuse kicks
His heels against the mountain sky, and snorts!

O breakers of broncos, we fling you on the wind
This handful of dust, this bitter alkali!—
As well attempt to rope the bucking stars,
Or burn your bars upon the flank of the moon!
When will you whirl your lasso at the sun?
Or bridle it? Or straddle the lightning-flash?