In A Faraway Northern County, In The Placid, Pastoral Region, Lives My Farmer Friend, The Theme Of My Recitative, A Famous Tamer Of Oxen: There They Bring Him The Three-Year-Olds And The Four-Year-Olds, To Break Them; He Will Take The Wildest Steer In The World, And Break Him And Tame Him; He Will Go, Fearless, Without Any Whip, Where The Young Bullock Chafes Up And Down The Yard; 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: See You! On The Farms Hereabout, A Hundred Oxen, Young And Old And He Is The Man Who Has Tamed Them; 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, Some Have Wide Flaring Horns (A Good Sign) See You! The Bright Hides; See, The Two With Stars On Their Foreheads See, The Round Bodies And Broad Backs; See, How Straight And Square They Stand On Their Legs See, What Fine, Sagacious Eyes; See, How They Watch Their Tamer They Wish Him Near Them How They Turn To Look After Him! What Yearning Expression! How Uneasy They Are When He Moves Away From Them: Now I Marvel What It Can Be He Appears To Them, (Books, Politics, Poems Depart All Else Departs;) 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.