Classic Poem

Can I roll a cigarette if the paper 's damp with sweat?
Can I roll and light and smoke it, with one hand?
Can I take a bronc. and bust 'im till with babies you could trust 'im?
Can I do it? You just bet — to beat the band!
As a puncher I 'm a scream (so my bunkie lets me dream),
I have herded cows for half a dozen years,
But I'm tired of the prairie, — the darned, old sun-dried prairie —
And I 'm sicker still of chambermaiding steers!
So it's back, back, back
Along the dear old track —
I 'm going to hit the East Trail in the fall.
Where there's something bright and new,
(And a little music, too!)
I hear the mild life calling and I 'll answer to the call!

I took a fool degree at my college, but, you see,
They thought I 'd shine some better in the West;
So they shipped me off out here (and forgot me, never fear!)
With the hope that I would " do my level best! "
Did I do it? Well I did, though a soft and verdant kid,
I 've learned the biz., with trimmings on the side,
With a handy bunch of dough, I'm going back to throw
Some ginger into those who have n't died.
So it 's hike, hike, hike
Along the iron pike —
I 'm going to hit the East Trail in the fall;
With my " breezy, Western way "
(That I 've paid for, day by day,)
I hear the mild life calling and I 'll answer to the call!

When I left 'em years ago, everything there was to know
I was wise to (Little Johnny-on-the-Spot!)
But I found that half I knew was n't useful, was n't true —
For the West can always teach you quite a lot.
Every man here plays the game on the level, just the same,
(If he does n't, he's not in it very long,)
But the novelty is gone, and the years are trekking on —
And I 'm thirsty for the Wine of Life and — Song!
So it 's back, back, back
On the homeward track —
I 'm going to hit the East Trail in the fall,
And I wonder if SHE 'S still
Unmarried? ... If — she — will ... —
I hear the mild life calling and I 'll answer to the call!