The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAABBCDB EEEBBCFB GGGBBCDB HHHBBCDB BBBBBCCB| A little colt broncho loaned to the farm | A |
| To be broken in time without fury or harm | A |
| Yet black crows flew past you shouting alarm | A |
| Calling Beware with lugubrious singing | B |
| The butterflies there in the bush were romancing | B |
| The smell of the grass caught your soul in a trance | C |
| So why be a fearing the spurs and the traces | D |
| O broncho that would not be broken of dancing | B |
| - | |
| You were born with the pride of the lords great and olden | E |
| Who danced through the ages in corridors golden | E |
| In all the wide farm place the person most human | E |
| You spoke out so plainly with squealing and capering | B |
| With whinnying snorting contorting and prancing | B |
| As you dodged your pursuers looking askance | C |
| With Greek footed figures and Parthenon paces | F |
| O broncho that would not be broken of dancing | B |
| - | |
| The grasshoppers cheered Keep whirling they said | G |
| The insolent sparrows called from the shed | G |
| If men will not laugh make them wish they were dead | G |
| But arch were your thoughts all malice displacing | B |
| Though the horse killers came with snake whips advancing | B |
| You bantered and cantered away your last chance | C |
| And they scourged you with Hell in their speech and their faces | D |
| O broncho that would not be broken of dancing | B |
| - | |
| Nobody cares for you rattled the crows | H |
| As you dragged the whole reaper next day down the rows | H |
| The three mules held back yet you danced on your toes | H |
| You pulled like a racer and kept the mules chasing | B |
| You tangled the harness with bright eyes side glancing | B |
| While the drunk driver bled you a pole for a lance | C |
| And the giant mules bit at you keeping their places | D |
| O broncho that would not be broken of dancing | B |
| - | |
| In that last afternoon your boyish heart broke | B |
| The hot wind came down like a sledge hammer stroke | B |
| The blood sucking flies to a rare feast awoke | B |
| And they searched out your wounds your death warrant tracing | B |
| And the merciful men their religion enhancing | B |
| Stopped the red reaper to give you a chance | C |
| Then you died on the prairie and scorned all disgraces | C |
| O broncho that would not be broken of dancing | B |
Vachel Lindsay
(1)
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