The Cow-Boy - A poem by James Wilkinson

The Cow-Boy.

Ho, for the cow-boy,
Brimming o'er with glee,
As merry as the larks
With their glad tut-i-lee;
Upon his little pony,
Swift as any deer;
Everything within is peace,
He has no cause of fear.

Ho, for the cow-boy,
Gliding to and fro,
Skimming o'er the prairie
Swifter than the crow.,
After the rabbit,
After the quail;
Running, chasing, driving,
Through sunshine, rain or hail.

Ho, for the cow-boy,
Sailing through the air,
Keeping watch o' er all
Entrusted to his care.
No millionaire so light,
No musician half so gay;
For he, when in the saddle,
Can ride all care away.

Ho, for the cow-boy,
When for home he goes;
His cot's of freshest hay,
Yet slumbers sound, he knows.
What a life of healthy pleasure,
Of enjoyment full and free; So
I, a cow-boy henceforth,
Would fain forever be.
98-99

^__James Wilkinson.

Hours in Dreamland
James Wilkinson
(Buffalo: The Peter Paul Book Company. 1896)
Pages 98-99