American Old Time Song Lyrics: 25 The Dying Cowboy

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 25

THE DYING- COWBOY.
Written and Sung by Nelson Forsyth
(Showman), Montgomery, Frio Co., Tex

Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie!
Those words came low and mournfully
From the pale lips of a youth, who lay
On hi3 dying couch, at the close of day.

He had wasted in pride, 'till o'er his brow
Death's shades were gathering thickly now;
And he thought of home and loved ones there,
As the cowboys came to see him die.

Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie,
In a narrow grave, just six by three;
Where the cayotas and the crows sport free,
And bury me not on the lone prairie.

It matters not so, I've been told,
Where the body lies, as the heart grows cold;
Yet grant, oh, grant this boon to me,
And bury me not on the lone prairie.

I always hoped to be laid where I died.
In the old church yard by the green hillside;
By my father's bones, oh, bury me,
And bury me not on the lone prairie.

Oh, bury me where a mother's prayer,
Or a sister's tears, might mingle there;
Where my friends might come and weep,
And bury me not on the lone prairie.

Oh, bury me not-and his voice there failed,
But they took no heed to his dying prayer;
In a narrow grave, just six by three,
And they buried him there on the lone prairie.