Читать книгу Cowboy Songs, and Other Frontier Ballads - Various - Страница 7

Last night as I lay on the prairie,

And looked at the stars in the sky,

I wondered if ever a cowboy

Would drift to that sweet by and by.

Roll on, roll on;

Roll on, little dogies, roll on, roll on,

Roll on, roll on;

Roll on, little dogies, roll on.

The road to that bright, happy region

Is a dim, narrow trail, so they say;

But the broad one that leads to perdition

Is posted and blazed all the way.

They say there will be a great round-up,

And cowboys, like dogies, will stand,

To be marked by the Riders of Judgment

Who are posted and know every brand.

I know there's many a stray cowboy

Who'll be lost at the great, final sale,

When he might have gone in the green pastures

Had he known of the dim, narrow trail.

I wonder if ever a cowboy

Stood ready for that Judgment Day,

And could say to the Boss of the Riders,

"I'm ready, come drive me away."

For they, like the cows that are locoed,

Stampede at the sight of a hand,

Are dragged with a rope to the round-up,

Or get marked with some crooked man's brand.

And I'm scared that I'll be a stray yearling,—

A maverick, unbranded on high,—

And get cut in the bunch with the "rusties"

When the Boss of the Riders goes by.

For they tell of another big owner

Whose ne'er overstocked, so they say,

But who always makes room for the sinner

Who drifts from the straight, narrow way.

They say he will never forget you,

That he knows every action and look;

So, for safety, you'd better get branded,

Have your name in the great Tally Book.