When the hull big world gits gloomy and as dark as all tarnation,
And a feller feels as grumpy as a lone steer on the range;
When he cain’t see nothin’ ’round him but despair and desolation,
‘Cuz the trails that he is follerin’ are new and fresh and strange;
When the people that he’s meeting’ ain’t the kind he likes to chum with,
And he feels a homesick feelin’ jest a-tuggin’ ‘neath his vest,
How he hankers for the Open, and the pals he used to bum with
In the sagebrush stretches lyin in the country to the West!
And he glimpses wide arroyos stretchin’ out as if to greet him,
While the rocky buttes they lure him, and they whisper to him, “Come!”
And the hoary mountains call him, and the cattle trails entreat him
To forget the busy city and its life so burdensome.
There’s a whisper from the mesas which forever hauntshis dreamin’
And his heart rebels within him with its burden of unrest,
And he sees the sand-dunes sparklin’ and the yucca-plumes a-gleamin’
In the sagebrush stretches lyin’ in the country to the West!
There’s the croonin’ of the pine trees – jest forever callin’, callin’,
There’s the murmur of the river as it glides through chasms deep;
There’s the lowin of the cattle on his restless senses fallin’,
And the yelpin’ of the ki-yote, as he’s dropping off to sleep.
There’s the purpled sunsets sparklin’ like a molten sea off yonder
There’s a glint of gold a-shinin’ on the rugged canyon’s crest,
And the vision stands before him, growin’ dearer, growin’ fonder,
Of the sagebrush stretches lyin’ in the country to the West.
Oh there ain’t no spot that’s dearer in the hull of God’s Creation
When you’ve felt the call within you as you packed your kit to go!
And you had a mental picture of the lonely railroad station
Where the boys would ride to meet you – all the pals you used to know.
How the rangelands smiled upon you, and the skies seemed all the bluer,
With the prairie jest a-blazin’ with the blooms upon its breast!
Then you knew that life was sweeter, and your pards were kinder, truer,
In the sagebrush stretches lyin’ in the county to the West.
(Earl Alonzo Brininstool)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Life Poems, Sadness Poems, Sleep Poems, Gold Poems, People Poems, Imagination & Visualization Poems, Countries PoemsBased on Keywords: purpled, fallin, a-shinin, lowin, burdensome, mesas, pards, sagebrush, follerin, cuz, stretchin