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PRAIRIE SONGS
But the longest of days must reach evening at last,
When the hills are all climbed and the creeks are all passed,
And the tired herd droops in the yellowing light;
Let them loaf if they will, for the railroad's in sight!
Come, strap up the saddle
Whose lap you have felt; So flap up your holster
And snap up your belt; Good-bye to the steers and the long chaparral; There's a town that's a trump by the railroad corral! |
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