Since I mentioned Don Edwards singing this one, here it is:


Ridin'
   Charles Badger Clark, 1906

There is some that like the city—
   Grass that's curried smooth and green,
Theaytres and stranglin' collars,
   Wagons run by gasoline—
But for me it's hawse and saddle
   Every day without a change,
And a desert sun a-blazin'
   On a hundred miles of range.

   Just a-ridin', a-ridin' —
      Desert ripplin' in the sun,
   Mountains blue among the skyline—
      I don't envy anyone
         When I'm ridin'.

When my feet is in the stirrups
   And my hawse is on the bust,
With his hoofs a-flashin' lightnin'
   From a cloud of golden dust,
And the bawlin' of the cattle
   Is a-comin' down the wind
Then a finer life than ridin'
   Would be mighty hard to find.

   Just a-ridin', a-ridin'—
      Splittin' long cracks through the air,
   Stirrin' up a baby cyclone,
      Rippin' up the prickly pear
         As I'm ridin'.

I don't need no art exhibits
   When the sunset does her best,
Paintin' everlastin' glory
   On the mountains to the west
And your opery looks foolish
   When the night-bird starts his tune
And the desert's silver mounted
   By the touches of the moon.

   Just a-ridin', a-ridin',
      Who kin envy kings and czars
   When the coyotes down the valley
      Are a-singin' to the stars,
         If he's ridin'?

When my earthly trail is ended
   And my final bacon curled
And the last great roundup's finished
   At the Home Ranch of the world
I don't want no harps nor haloes
   Robes nor other dressed up things—
Let me ride the starry ranges
   On a pinto hawse with wings!

   Just a-ridin', a-ridin'—
      Nothin' I'd like half so well
   As a-roundin' up the sinners
      That have wandered out of Hell,
         And a-ridin'.

From Clark's Sun and Saddle Leather (1915, text from 1922 ed.)
Originally published as "In Arizony", 1906 (Pacific Monthly, August)