Classic Poem

It was in the merry month of May
When I started for Texas far away,
I left my darling girl behind;
She said her heart was only mine.

O, it was when I embraced her in my arms,
I thought she had ten thousand charms;
Her caresses were soft, her kisses were sweet,
Saying, “We'll get married next time we meet.”

It was in the year of 'eighty-three
That A. J. Stinson hired me;
He says, “Young man, I want you to go
And follow this herd into Mexico.”

Well, it was early in the year
When I started out to drive those steers;
Through sleet and snow 'twas a lonesome go
As the herd rolled on into Mexico.

When I arrived in Mexico,
I wanted to see my girl but I could not go;
So I wrote a letter to my dear
But not a word for years did I hear.

Well, I started back to my once-loved home,
Inquired for the girl I had called my own;
They said she had married a richer life,
Therefore, wild cowboy, seek another wife.

“O buddie, O buddie, please stay at home,
Don't forever be on the roam.
There is many a girl more true than I,
So pray don't go where the bullets fly.”

“Oh, curse your gold and your silver, too.
God pity a girl that won't prove true.
I'll travel west where the bullets fly.
I'll stay on the trail till the day I die.”