Songs of the Prairie

When, reckless of time and of trouble, I watch till the water fowl comes, Or, picking my steps in the stubble, I steal where the prairie hen drums; When shooting the wolf in the brushes, Or spearing the pike in the stream, Or potting the crane in the rushes-- Ambition seems only a dream.

When darkness envelops creation, And shadows lie deep on the plain, I sit in my rude habitation And ponder my childhood again; Then voices come out of the distance, Far voices from over the sea, They call from the depths of existence-- I know they are calling to me!

The voices of song and of motion, The voices of laughter and light, They're calling from over the ocean-- Oh, God! could I answer to-night! The voices of friend and of lover, The voices I knew in the past-- I turn to my pallet to smother The thoughts that have found me at last!

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Greater than the measure of the heroes of renown, He is building for the future, and no hand can hold him down; Though they cou