The West

Ho! brothers — come hither and list to my story —
Merry and brief will the narrative be:
Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glory —
Master am I, boys, of all that I see.
Where once frown'd a forest a garden is smiling —
The meadow and moorland are marshes no more;
And there curls the smoke of my cottage, beguiling
The children who cluster like grapes at the door,
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
The land of the heart is the land of the west.
Oho, boys! — oho, boys! — oho!
Talk not of the town, boys, — give me the broad prairie,
Where man like the wind roams impulsive and free;
Behold how its beautiful colours all vary,
Like those of the clouds, or the deep-rolling sea.
A life in the woods, boys, is even as changing;
With proud independence we season our cheer,
And those who the world are for happiness ranging,
Won't find it at all, if they don't find it here.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
I'll show you the life, boys, we live in the west.
Oho, boys! — oho, boys! — oho!
Here, brothers, secure from all turmoil and danger,
We reap what we sow, for the soil is our own;
We spread hospitality's board for the stranger,
And care not a fig for the king on his throne;
We never know want, for we live by our labour,
And in it contentment and happiness find;
We do what we can for a friend or a neighbour,
And die, boys, in peace and good-will to mankind.
Then enter, boys; cheerly, boys, enter and rest;
You know how we live, boys, and die in the west!
Oho, boys! — oho, boys! — oho!