The Plains' Call
by Arthur Chapman
I must ride out on the plains again,
With a horse 'twixt knee and knee,
Where the wolves howl and the winds growl,
And the clouds drift fast o'er me;
I must ride out on the plains once more,
On the Westland's broad and level floor.
I must ride forth on the plains at morn,
Where the cactus flowers are,
And the lark calls, and the white walls
Of the mountain loom afar;
I must ride out, when breaks the day--
Ride where the gods of outdoors play.
I must ride out on the plains at night,
And smell the dew wet sage,
When the moon glows, and the late snows
Gleam like a book's white page;
I must ride out on the plains again,
And quit this haunt of pygmy men.
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