HE is the Pampa's very own,—a bit Of her brave soil that spread beneath the sun; Wanting a savage steed, he bridles one To herd his cattle,—his the arm for it. Then to the sound of his guitar will sit In his belovéd's arms, his toiling done, And pour an anguished chant to twirl and run Like his lassoo, his sad lament to fit. The Pampa is the frame that bounds the thirst The @3gaucho@1 feels in his desire to break The weariness with which the land seems cursed; Its green monotony afar displayed Seems where some great fatigue its rest would take, Or reaches onward as a hope betrayed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING (1) by EMILY DICKINSON AN UNINSCRIBED MONUMENT - BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS by HERMAN MELVILLE TO - (2) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TO JANE: THE RECOLLECTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM FALLING FROM THE ALPS by THOMAS WYATT WINE AND CITRON by ABU ABD ALLAH NATALITIUM: MARTIJ 13, 1643 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |