FRONTIER BALLADS.
I.AFTER THE CAMANCHES.
Saddle, saddle, saddle!
Mount and gallop away!
Over the dim green prairie,
Straight on the track of day.
Spare not spur for mercy,
Hurry with shout and thong,
Fiery and tough is the mustang,
The prairie is wide and long.
Mount and gallop away!
Over the dim green prairie,
Straight on the track of day.
Spare not spur for mercy,
Hurry with shout and thong,
Fiery and tough is the mustang,
The prairie is wide and long.
Saddle, saddle, saddle!
Leap from the broken door
Where the brute Camanche entered
And the white-foot treads no more.
The hut is burned to ashes,
There are dead men stark outside,
But only a long dark ringlet
Left of the stolen bride.
Leap from the broken door
Where the brute Camanche entered
And the white-foot treads no more.
The hut is burned to ashes,
There are dead men stark outside,
But only a long dark ringlet
Left of the stolen bride.
