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THE CATTLE ROUND-UP |
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O
NCE more are we met for a season of pleasure,
That shall smooth from our brows every fur- row of care, For the sake of old times shall we each tread a meas- ure And drink to the lees in the eyes of the fair. Once more let the hand-clasp of years past be given ; Let us once more be boys and forget we are men; Let friendships the chances of fortune have riven Be renewed and the smiling past come back again. The past, when the prairie was big and the cattle Were as "scary" as ever the antelope grew — When to carry a gun, to make our spurs rattle, And to ride a blue streak was the most that we knew; The past when we headed each year for Dodge City And punched up the drags on the old Chisholm Trail;
When the world was all bright and the girls were all pretty,
And a feller could " mav'rick " and stay out of jail Then here's to the eyes that like diamonds are gleam-
ing, And make the lamps blush that their duties are o'er;
And here's to the lips where young love lies a-dream-
ing; 54 |
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