Cowboy Songs, and Other Frontier Ballads. Various

Was safe with me to-day.

       I make a pillow of it now

       On which to lay my head,

       A winding sheet you'll make of it

       When I am with the dead.

      "I know 'twill grieve his inmost soul

       To think I never more

       Will sit with him beneath the oak

       That shades the cottage door;

       But tell that time-worn patriot,

       That, mindful of his fame,

       Upon this bloody battlefield

       I sullied not his name.

      "My mother's form is with me now,

       Her will is in my ear,

       And drop by drop as flows my blood

       So flows from her the tear.

       And oh, when you shall tell to her

       The tidings of this day,

       Speak softly, comrade, softly speak

       What you may have to say.

      "Speak not to her in blighting words

       The blighting news you bear,

       The cords of life might snap too soon,

       So, comrade, have a care.

       I am her only, cherished child,

       But tell her that I died

       Rejoicing that she taught me young

       To take my country's side.

      "But, comrade, there's one more,

       She's gentle as a fawn;

       She lives upon the sloping hill

       That overlooks the lawn,

       The lawn where I shall never more

       Go forth with her in merry mood

       To gather wild-wood flowers.

      "Tell her when death was on my brow

       And life receding fast,

       Her looks, her form was with me then,

       Were with me to the last.

       On Buena Vista's bloody field

       Tell her I dying lay,

       And that I knew she thought of me

       Some thousand miles away."

      WESTWARD HO

      I love not Colorado

       Where the faro table grows,

       And down the desperado

       The rippling Bourbon flows;

      Nor seek I fair Montana

       Of bowie-lunging fame;

       The pistol ring of fair Wyoming

       I leave to nobler game.

      Sweet poker-haunted Kansas

       In vain allures the eye;

       The Nevada rough has charms enough

       Yet its blandishments I fly.

      Shall Arizona woo me

       Where the meek Apache bides?

       Or New Mexico where natives grow

       With arrow-proof insides?

      Nay, 'tis where the grizzlies wander

       And the lonely diggers roam,

       And the grim Chinese from the squatter flees

       That I'll make my humble home.

      I'll chase the wild tarantula

       And the fierce cayote I'll dare,

       And the locust grim, I'll battle him

       In his native wildwood lair.

      Or I'll seek the gulch deserted

       And dream of the wild Red man,

       And I'll build a cot on a corner lot

       And get rich as soon as I can.

      A HOME ON THE RANGE

      Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,

       Where the deer and the antelope play,

       Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

       And the skies are not cloudy all day.

      Home, home on the range,

       Where the deer and the antelope play;

       Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

       And the skies are not cloudy all day.

      Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free,

       The breezes so balmy and light,

       That I would not exchange my home on the range

       For all of the cities so bright.

      The red man was pressed from this part of the West,

       He's likely no more to return

       To the banks of Red River where seldom if ever

       Their flickering camp-fires burn.

      How often at night when the heavens are bright

       With the light from the glittering stars,

       Have I stood here amazed and asked as I gazed

       If their glory exceeds that of ours.

      Oh, I love these wild flowers in this dear land of ours,

       The curlew I love to hear scream,

       And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks

       That graze on the mountain-tops green.

      Oh, give me a land where the bright diamond sand

       Flows leisurely down the stream;

       Where the graceful white swan goes gliding along

       Like a maid in a heavenly dream.

      Then I would not exchange my home on the range,

       Where the deer and the antelope play;

       Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

       And the skies are not cloudy all day.

      Home, home on the range,

       Where the deer and the antelope play;

       Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

       And the skies are not cloudy all day.

      Home on the Range

      Listen | Download Finale | View/Download PDF

      TEXAS RANGERS

      Come, all you Texas rangers, wherever you may be,

       I'll tell you of some troubles that happened unto me.

       My name is nothing extra, so it I will not tell—

       And here's to all you rangers, I am sure I wish you well.

      It was at the age of sixteen that I joined the jolly band,

       We marched from San Antonio down to the Rio Grande.

       Our captain he informed us, perhaps he thought it right,

       "Before we reach the station, boys, you'll surely have to fight."

      And when the bugle sounded our captain gave command,

       "To arms, to arms," he shouted, "and by your horses stand."

       I saw the smoke ascending, it seemed to reach the sky;