COWBOY POETRY & SONGBOOK - NPS

COWBOY POETRY & SONGBOOK

revised 2008

Laugh kills lonesome- C. Russell

GRANT-KOHRS RANCH National Historic Site

Deer Lodge, Montana

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Table of contents:

From the real open range era-1880

When the Work¡¯s Done this Fall

From the Cowboy Movies-1950¡¯s

Cool Water

Red River Valley

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

Home on the Range

I Want to be a Cowboy Sweetheart

Cattle Call

From the Lomaxs¡¯ collection-1900¡¯s

A Cowboy¡¯s Prayer

Dogie¡¯s Lament

I Ride an Old Paint

Strawberry Roan

From the Dude Ranching era-1925

My Home¡¯s In Montana

Don¡¯t Fence Me In

From the current Cowboy

Renaissance era -1975

Nightrider¡¯s Lament

Goodnight-Loving Trail

Reincarnation

The Lion

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After the Roundup (When The Work¡¯s Done This Fall)

D. J. O¡¯Malley

A group of jolly cowboys discussed their plans at ease,

Said one, "I'll tell you something, boys, if you please -See, I'm a puncher, dressed most in rags;

I used to be a wild one and took on big jags.

I have a home, boys, a good one you know,

But I haven't seen it since long, long ago.

But I'm going back home, boys, once more to see then all;

Yes, I'll go back home, boys, when work¡¯s all done this fall.

After roundup's over, after shipping's done,

I'm going straight back home, boys, ere all my money's

gone.

My mother's heart is breaking, breaking for me, that's all;

But with God's help I'll see her when the work is done this

fall.

When I left my home, boys, for me she cried,

Begged me to stay, boys, for me she would have died. I

haven't used her right, boys, my hard-earned cash I've

spent,

When I should have saved it and to my mother sent.

But I've changed my course, boys, I'll be a better man

And help my poor old mother, I'm sure that I can.

I'll walk in the straight path; no more will I fall;

And I'll see my mother when the work's done this fall."

That very night this cowboy went on guard;

The night it was dark and 'twas storming very hard.

Riding in the darkness loud he did shout,

Doing his utmost to turn the herd around

The cattle got frightened and rushed in mad stampede,

He tried hard to check them, riding at full speed;

His saddle horse stumbled and on him did fall;

He'll not see his mother when the work's done this fall.

They picked him up gently and laid him on a bed;

The poor boy was mangled, they thought he was dead.

He opened up his blue eyes and gazed all around;

Then motioned his comrades to sit near him on the ground:

"Send her the wages I have earned.

Boys, I'm afraid that my last steer I've turned.

I'm going to a new range, I hear the Master call.

I'll not see my mother when the work's done this fall.

Bill, take my saddle; George, take my bed;

Fred, take my pistol after I am dead.

Think of me kindly when on them you look--"

His voice then grew fainter, with anguish he shook.

His friends gathered closer and on them he gazed.

His breath coming fainter, his eyes growing glazed.

He uttered a few words, heard by them all:

"I'll see my mother when the work's all done this fall."

D. J. O¡¯ Malley cowboyed in Montana at the height

of the open range era, from 1882-1891, on the N Bar N

Ranch in eastern Montana, on lands Kohrs

eventually acquired. This poem, penned in 1893, is

one of his most famous. It lives on as a popular and

classic song in contemporary cowboy culture,

underscoring that cowboying was indeed dangerous

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Red River Valley

It's a long time, you know, I've been waiting

For the words that you never did say,

Now alas! all my fond hopes have vanished,

For they say you are going away.

From this valley they say you are going.

I shall miss your blue eyes and sweet smile,

For you take with you all of the sunshine

That has brightened my pathway a while.

So consider a while ere you leave me,

Do not hasten to bid me adieu,

But remember the Red River Valley

And the half-breed who loved you so true.

So remember the valley you're leaving,

How lonely, how dreary it will be;

Remember the heart you are breaking,

And be true to your promise to me.

As you go to your home by the ocean,

May you never forget those sweet hours

That we spent in the Red River Valley

And the love we exchanged in its bowers.

There are Red Rivers in Texas, North Dakota, Minnesota,

Montana and Canada, to name a few. Everyone claims this

one, though folklorist Edith Fowke attributes it to Canadian

sources. She notes it is a song from Manitoba, sung during

the military occupation by Canadian troops sent to put down

the Metis rebellion in the late 1860¡¯s, sung from the

viewpoint of a Metis woman losing her soldier. Metis means

¡®mixed blood¡¯ and referred to the children from the

voyageur/first nation marriages. From there it was adopted

across the west as a standard, with the obvious change in

wording from ¡®half breed¡¯ to ¡®cowboy¡¯ and the voice from

female to male. Interestingly, Johnny Grant was Metis and

returned to the Red River area after selling the ranch to

Kohrs in 1866.

Home on the range

Oh, give me a home, where the buffalo roam,

Where the deer and the antelope play,

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,

And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Chorus:

Home, home on the range,

Where the deer and the antelope play,

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,

And the skies are not cloudy all day.

2. Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free,

The breezes so balmy and light,

That I would not exchange my home on the range

For all the cities so bright.

3. The red man was pressed from this part of the West,

He's likely no more to return

To the banks of Red River where seldom if ever

Their flickering campfires burn.

4. How often at night when the heavens are bright

With the light of the glittering stars,

Have I stood here amazed and asked as I gazed

If their glory exceeds that of ours.

5. Oh, I love these wild flowers in this dear land of ours;

The curlew I love to hear scream;

And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks

That graze on the mountain-tops green.

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6. Oh, give me a land where the bright diamond sand

flows leisurely down the stream;

Where the graceful white swan goes gliding along

Like a maid in a heavenly dream.

7. Then I would not exchange my home on the range,

Where the deer and the antelope play;

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Attributed to Dr. Brewster Higley and Dan Kelley, of Smith

County, Kansas, 1873, after an extensive lawsuit in 1934 to

establish its origins. Collected in 1910 in Lomaxs¡¯ anthology of

Cowboy Songs, it was revived in 1932 and again in 1955 by Gene

Autry. It is the state song of Kansas and considered the ¡°cowboy

A Cowboy's Prayer

(Written for Mother)

Charles Badger Clark

Oh Lord, I've never lived where churches grow.

I love creation better as it stood

That day You finished it so long ago

And looked upon Your work and called it

good.

I know that others find You in the light

That's sifted down through tinted window panes,

And yet I seem to feel You near tonight

In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains.

Just let me live my life as I've begun

And give me work that's open to the sky;

Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,

And I won't ask a life that's soft or high.

Let me be easy on the man that's down;

Let me be square and generous with all

I¡¯m careless sometimes, Lord, when I'm In town,

But never let 'em say I'm mean or small!

Make me as big and open as the plains,

As honest as the hawse between my knees,

Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,

Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze.

Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.

You know about the reasons that are hid.

You understand the things that gall and fret;

You know me better than my mother did.

Just keep an eye on all that's done and said

And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,

And guide me on the long, dim, trail ahead

That stretches upward toward the Great

Divide.

Badger Clark, Poet Laureate, South Dakota, 1883-1944, one of his

first poems and best loved. It was published in Sun and Saddle

Leather, 1915, though written in 1893 when he cowboyed in the

Dakotas and Montana.

I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,

That You have made my freedom so complete;

That I'm no slave of whistle, clock or bell,

Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.

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