The Old Hotel At
Spring Hill, Kansas.
Over the prairies for miles and miles,
Slowly the stage coach roiled along,
With now and then the crack of a whip,
And a "Get up there" or a bit of a song.
The bluestem waved and the flowers wild
Nodded and becked as the stage went by
(In the soft June days) and when autumn came
The fires of the prairie lit up the sky,
And after the ride was a rest for a spell,
For the passengers here at the old hotel.
'Twas a welcome sight to the traveler worn,
The light that flecked from the windows here,
And far in the night were the slow teams urged,
That the drivers might bask in its warmth
and cheer,
For equality reigned at the old hotel,
Where the traveler told of his wanderings far,
Of his hopes and ambitions, of what he had
been,
Of all that had happened his fortune to mar;
And the innkeeper listened to what had befell,
Till the clock struck twelve in the old hotel.
'Twas here Greeley came by the old stage line,
And stopped awhile for a welcome rest,
And saw for the first the prairies so wide,
That inspired his advice, "Young man, go
West."
But the trail, now bears the name of a street;
By the hotel's walls move a city's throng,
And the corn and wheat now nod and bend
On the sod where the bluestem waved so
long;
__Ed Blair.
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