When the last great herd has vanished,
And the open range is gone;
When the cattle are all banished,
And their numbers are withdrawn,
When the brandin’ days are over,
And the ropin’ is all through,
Then it is we’ll sit and wonder
What’s the cowpunch goin’ to do?
When the cowman comes to sever
What connections he had left’
When the trail-herds pass forever,
And there ain’t a cayuse left;
When the ol’ chuckwagon rumbles
O’er the ridges out of view,
And the cook quits yellin’ “Grub pile!”
What’s the puncher goin’ to do?
When the squealin’, bruckin’ bronco
Has become an ol’ plow nag;
When the saddle and the poncho
Hand up in an ol’ grain bag;
When his bits and spurs are rustin’.
And his gun is useless, too,
And there’s no more round-ups startin’
What’s the puncher goin’ to do?
When the last night-herdin’s finished,
And he’s seen his last stampede,
When the bunkhouse gang’s diminished,
And of brand-irons there’s no need’
When the ol’ worn yellow slicker
Is put by for store-duds new,
And his chaps have been discarded,
What’s the puncher goin’ to do?
When there ain’t no wild west longer;
When the plains are seas of grain,
And the nesters crowd in stronger,
Till the cowman can’t remain;
When ol’ life’s but a vision
To which he must bid adieu,
Tell me, oh, my ol’ range pardners,
What’s the puncher goin’ to do?
(Earl Alonzo Brininstool)
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Based on Topics: Imagination & Visualization PoemsBased on Keywords: rumbles, stampede, startin, puncher, bronco, yellin, slicker, bunkhouse, brandin, ropin, cowman