Oh, to close my desk, lay by my pen
And ride away to the range again;
The broad expanse where cattle roam
Where the great out-doors is home, sweet home.
The city's dust, the city's lust
That fills my soul with sheer disgust;
The lust for power, the lust for gold,
The lust for which our manhood's sold.
Oh, let me leave this hateful grind
And all for which it stands, behind;
The wicked city and its mart,
The seared of soul, the flinty heart.
to hear my pony's hoof-beats fall,
In answer to the wild bird's call—
The Texas plains once more to view
Where flowers flame—red, white and blue;
To lie at night, beneath the skies
That watch me with a million eyes;
To sleep, to dream and sweetly rest
Upon the friendly prairie's breast.