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Show A FALL Oh, I have heard stories and I know you have too, About the old-time cowboy and what he could do. How he would roll out at four in the morning in the wind and the snow, Wolf down cold biscuits, hot coffee, saddle an old pony and be ready to go. How he would follow an old chuck wagon from early spring to late fall, And for the city lights, you never heard too much call. How he would ride drag on the trail, herd over those dry and dusty plains. Oh, he was the same cowboy in the spring and summer rains. How he would first step on some half-broke pony in the first light of dawn, And when he let the hammer down, how he would whoop and holler, as he spurred out across the cold, frozen ground. He could take his dallies, or tie hard and fast, And when he bedded a critter down, he worked like his comrades of the past. Oh, they also talk about the cowboy of today, How he isn't worth much, you can't even get him out off the hay. How it is usually sun-up before he starts the day, And he doesn't take too much pride in what he does or says. Oh, he don't want the kinda work as haftin' to ride drag across the dry and dusty plains Or work like a trudger in the early spring and summer rains. Oh, you have heard about the horses they used in them days too, And how there isn't a horse born that can do what they used to. How he used him on roundup circles, used him then to cut the herd, Also drug wood in for the cook-what an awful dust they stirred. Now the horses are off today, They aren't worth much, they say. But I know one thing that is still true, A pony can fall just as hard as he used to, And the rider gets hurt just as bad, Whether he be an old-time cowboy or only a lad. Yula Sue Hunting is A tsL-i-4.- J Cowboy Poetry From Utah 43 |
