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A NEVADA COWPUNCHER TO HIS
BELOVED L
ONESOME ? Well, I guess so!
j This place is mighty blue ; The silence of the empty rooms Jes' palpitates with — you. The day has lost its beauty,
The sun's a-shinin' pale; I'll round up my belonging An' I guess I'll hit the trail. Out there in the sage-brush
A-harkin' to the " Coo-oo " Of the wild dove in his matin' I can think alone of you. Perhaps a gaunt coyote
Will go a-lopin' by
An' linger on the mountain ridge
An' cock his wary eye.
An' when the evenin' settles,
A-waitin' for the dawn Perhaps I'll hear the ground owl: " She's gone — she's gone — she's gone! " Anonymous. 90 |
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