The Grip of the Prairies

Up and down the world I've wandered, over land and over sea,
With the rivers rolling under and the mountains over me,
And as sure as truth is certain, you will find this saying so:
When the prairies grab a feller, they will never let him go!

For there's something in the stretches of the plains that comes and
takes
All the loves and all the longings for their own exalted sakes,
And the man that gets to breathing of their glories day and night
Finds the prairies hold his heartstrings in a grip that's good and
tight.

He may tread the balsam forests with their whiffs of fir and pine;
He may sail the tossing oceans and inhale their breaths of brine;
He may walk the rosy valleys, climb the mountains to the snow,
But if once the prairies grab him they will never let him go!

Ever see the sun rise proudly from the prairie's naked rim
Filling up the world of wonder till it overflows the brim?
'Tis a glory that's unrivaled! 'Tis a most exalted sight,
And the prairies that present it come and grab you good and tight!

O, the grandeur of the prairies! O, the seas of grassy plain!
How they soothe with satisfaction all the hopes of heart and brain!
'Tis a truth beyond disputing, and your own heart says it's so:
When the prairies grab a feller, they will never let him go!