Well, if ya want to get into some poetry, try that of Badger Clark. We were raised on him in almost equal parts with Service, Kipling and others. Here's just the end of his 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!

He also wrote Spanish is a lovin' tongue and, this is probably his other most well known piece, A Cowboy's Prayer (Written for Mother):

Oh Lord, I've never lived where churches grow.
            I loved creation better as it stood
       That day You finished it so long ago
            And looked upon Your work and called it good.
       I know that others find You in the light
            That's sifted down through tinted window panes,
       And yet I seem to feel You near tonight
            In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains.

       I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,
            That You have made my freedom so complete;
       That I'm no slave of whistle, clock or bell,
            Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street,
       Just let me live my life as I've begun
            And give me work that's open to the sky;
       Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
            And I won't ask a life that's soft or high.

       Let me be easy on the man that's down;
            Let me be square and generous with all.
       I'm careless sometimes, Lord, when I'm in town,
            But never let 'em say I'm mean or small!
       Make me as big and open as the plains,
            As honest as the hawse between my knees,
       Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,
            Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!

       Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.
            You know about the reasons that are hid.
       You understand the things that gall and fret;
            You know me better than my mother did.
       Just keep an eye on all that's done and said
            And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,
       And guide me down the long, dim trail ahead
            That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.