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A Cowboy Alone With His Conscience
Every bush stands grim an' silent in a sort o' livin'
death —
Tell you what, a feller's feelin's give him many an icy prod,
When thar ain't nobody near him, 'ceptin' God. Somehow alius git to thinkin' o' the error o' my
ways,
An' my memory goes wingin' back to childhood's happy days,
When a mother, now a restin' in the grave so dark an' deep,
Used to listen while I'd whisper, " Now I lay me down to sleep."
Then a sort o' guilty feelin' gits a surgin' in my breast,
An' I wonder how I'll stack up at the final judg- ment test, Conscience alius welts it to me with a mighty cuttin' rod,
When thar ain't nobody near me, 'ceptin' God. Take the very meanest sinner that the nation ever
saw, One that don't respect religion more'n he respects the
law, One that never does an action that's commendable
or good, An' immerse him fur a season out in Nature's soli-
tude, 185 |
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