Cowboys Wild Song To His Herd

(início)

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    One beautiful night when the moon was full,
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    and the air was crisp and clear,
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    a cowboy lay on the starlit plain,
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    and thought of his home so dear.
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    He thought of his mother he loved so well,
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    and his slumber of sleep was blurred,
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    not a sound to be heard but those of the night,
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    as he sang a wild song to his herd.
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    The cattle are lying so quiet and still
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    on a carpet that mantels the west,
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    while the golden lanes from the sky of night
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    sing peace to the cowboy's breast.
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    Still he thinks of his mother in a faraway land,
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    and his thoughts by his memory was stirred,
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    and he sees himself to the old home again,
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    as he sang a wild song to his herd.
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    He's far from the din of the city noise,
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    where the lights of folly do shine,
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    he's far from the jaws of the dives of sin,
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    and the flow of sparkling wine.
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    He's in the great West with its mantle of green,
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    where his neighbors say never a word,
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    a land of narrow ridge of mountains and plains,
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    where a cowboy sings low to his herd.