On the Trail

Oh, there 's nothing like the prairie
When the wind is in your face,
And a thunderstorm is brewing,
And night comes down apace —
'Tis then you feel the wonder
And immensity of space !
Far in the gathering darkness
Against the dying day
The ghostly hills are lying,
The hills that stand for ay —
How in the dusk they glimmer
And palpitate away !

How vast the world and void !
No living thing in sight,
As to the lonely prairie
Comes down the lonely night,
But in your heart what freedom —
What sense of buoyant flight !

Once more the pulses quicken
With life's exultant pride,
With hope and high ambition,
As on and on you ride,
Till all the old desires
Come galloping beside !

Oh, there 's nothing like the prairie
When the wind is in your face,
And the boom of distant thunder
Comes rolling up apace —
'Tis then you feel the wonder
And immensity of space !