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Frontier Ballads
As strong as the ocean's billows,
As fierce as the blizzard's breath, Is aught in Nature that may withstand The league-long sweep of this scorching brand
That clutters the plains with death? Ahead is a waiting darkness,
A shadow athwart the glare, And the wild things have turned them to it,
For they know there is safety there.
The river, at last, the river!
A haven where all may hide. With toil-spent lungs and with straining feet They reel from the smoke and the peeling heat
To plunge in its grateful tide, While the tongue of the hungry demon
Licks out on the naked sand, And slavers its baffled fury
And sinks, like a dying hand.
Over the lonely prairie
So wan, the white moonrise grows; From out of the North a chill wind rides That spins the ash on the black hillsides
And, fading, an ember glows. The clustered diamonds of midnight
Flash keen in the purple deep, The hollows and hills are empty;
The desolate prairies sleep. |
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