Cowboy Songs, and Other Frontier Ballads

Oh, I'm going home Bull-whacking for to spurn, I ain't got a nickel, And I don't give a dern. 'Tis when I meet a pretty girl, You bet I will or try, I'll make her my little wife...

On Buena Vista battlefield A dying soldier lay, His thoughts were on his mountain home Some thousand miles away. He called his comrade to his side, For much he had to say, In br...

One month had passed and Maggie, We called her Hazel Eye, In truth was going to leave me, Was going to say good-bye. Her uncle, Mad Jack Reynolds, Reported long since dead, Had...

The big ranches of the West are now being cut up into small farms. The nester has come, and come to stay. Gone is the buffalo, the Indian warwhoop, the free grass of the open pl...

While many a long-horned coaster,-- I mean, just so to speak,-- That hasn't had the advantage Of the range and gospel creek Will get to crop the grasses In the pasture of the Lo...

And then we rode towards Texas, that good old Lone Star State, But on Nebraska's prairies the James boys we did meet; With knives, guns, and revolvers we all sat down to play, A...

He stands our faithful bulwark Against our savage foe; Through lonely woodland places Our children come and go; Our flocks and herds untended O'er hill and valley roam, The Rang...

When I think of the last great round-up On the eve of eternity's dawn, I think of the past of the cowboys Who have been with us here and are gone. And I wonder if any will greet...

A group had gathered round him, His comrades in the fight, A tear rolled down each manly cheek As he bid a last good-night. One tried and true companion Was kneeling by his side...

Kind friends, you must pity my horrible tale, I am an object of pity, I am looking quite stale, I gave up my trade selling Right's Patent Pills To go hunting gold in the dreary...

The afternoon shadows are starting to lean, When the chuck wagon sticks in the marshy ravine; The herd scatters farther than vision can look, For you can bet all true punchers w...

He couldn't do any work And he wouldn't know how if he could; So the police run him for a vag And set him to bucking wood. As he sits in the guard room cell, He feebly cries out...

[Transcriber's notes: -Page vii: The word following "view of what Owen" was unclear, and may not be the "Writes" which has been chosen. -(Mus. Not.) following a title means that...