Old Spookses' Pass Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDCEFEF A GHIHJKLK A MNONPQRS J KTUTVWXW J NNJNJYZY J NA2NA2B2NC2N J D2E2F2G2H2HNH J I2NJ2NK2ZL2Z F2 NJF2JPNM2N F2 F2F2F2F2N2HEHJF2N2F2 J K2NN2NGF2GF2 F2 JF2GF2NO2NO2 F2 NNONNNP2N J GG2Q2G2R2F2F2F2 J NF2S2F2T2ZF2Z J NNENNEF2E J U2F2NF2V2F2F2N J W2ZJZX2ENE F2 F2NY2NNF2EF2 F2 F2NB2NNF2N F2 N2NNNNEVE F2 F2R2NR2JNZ2N F2 NNENNNF2F2 J NF2F2F2F2JF2J J F2F2LNA3NVN J JZB3ZENNN J NNVNQNP2N J NNC3NOD3ND3 F2 NF2NF2B2R2F2R2 F2 F2Y2E3Y2F2A2NA2 F2 NENEF2EJE F2 NNF2NJD3ND3 F2 F2ZE3ZNJNJ J NYNYNNNN J F3NNNF2G3ZG3NH3NH3 J I3NJ3NK3NLN J NR2L3R2EL3EL3 J NHF2HNNNN F2 F2C3I3C3F2NVN C3 H3E3NE3NOM3O C3 N3NQNNNN3N C3 JNR2NJO3P3O3 C3 F2F2NF2JNNN J Q3F2F2F2C3J2F2J2 J C3NF2NR3C3VC3 J F2NZNC3NNN J ND3E3D3O2C3NC3 J C3N3W2N3NF2B3F2 F2 NNE2NC3NF2N C3 H3NNNC3NR2N F2 F2JNJJENE F2 N3NJ2NYF2VF2 F2 NNS3NF2F2F2F2| I | A |
| - | |
| We'd camp'd that night on Yaller Bull Flat | B |
| Thar was Possum Billy an' Tom an' me | C |
| Right smart at throwin' a lariat | D |
| Was them two fellers as ever I see | C |
| An' for ridin' a broncho or argyin' squar | E |
| With the devil roll'd up in the hide of a mule | F |
| Them two fellers that camp'd with me thar | E |
| Would hev made an' or'nary feller a fool | F |
| - | |
| II | A |
| - | |
| Fur argyfyin' in any way | G |
| Thet hed to be argy'd with sinew an' bone | H |
| I never see'd fellers could argy like them | I |
| But just right har I will hev to own | H |
| Thet whar brains come in in the game of life | J |
| They held the poorest keerds in the lot | K |
| An' when hands was shown some other chap | L |
| Rak'd in the hull of the blam'd old pot | K |
| - | |
| III | A |
| - | |
| We was short of hands the herd was large | M |
| An' watch an' watch we divided the night | N |
| We could hear the coyotes howl an' whine | O |
| But the darn'd critters kept out of sight | N |
| Of the camp fire blazin' an' now an' then | P |
| Thar come a rustle an' sort of rush | Q |
| A rattle a sneakin' away from the blaze | R |
| Thro' the rattlin' cracklin' grey sage bush | S |
| - | |
| IV | J |
| - | |
| We'd chanc'd that night on a pootyish lot | K |
| With a tol'ble show of tall sweet grass | T |
| We was takin' Speredo's drove across | U |
| The Rockies by way of Old Spookses' Pass | T |
| An' a mite of a creek went crinklin' down | V |
| Like a pocket bust in the rocks overhead | W |
| Consid'able shrunk by the summer drought | X |
| To a silver streak in its gravelly bed | W |
| - | |
| V | J |
| - | |
| 'Twas a fairish spot fur to camp a' night | N |
| An' chipper I felt tho' sort of skeer'd | N |
| That them two cowboys with only me | J |
| Couldn't boss three thousand head of a herd | N |
| I took the fust of the watch myself | J |
| An' as the red sun down the mountains sprang | Y |
| I roll'd a fresh quid an' got on the back | Z |
| Of my peart leetle chunk of a tough mustang | Y |
| - | |
| VI | J |
| - | |
| An' Possum Billy was sleepin' sound | N |
| Es only a cowboy knows how to sleep | A2 |
| An' Tommy's snores would hev made a old | N |
| Buffalo bull feel kind o' cheap | A2 |
| Wal pard I reckin' thar's no sech time | B2 |
| For dwind'lin' a chap in his own conceit | N |
| Es when them mountains an' awful stars | C2 |
| Jest hark to the tramp of his mustang's feet | N |
| - | |
| VII | J |
| - | |
| It 'pears to me that them solemn hills | D2 |
| Beckin' them stars so big an' calm | E2 |
| An' whisper Make tracks this way my friends | F2 |
| We've ring'd in here a specimen man | G2 |
| He's here alone so we'll take a look | H2 |
| Thro' his ganzy an' vest an' his blood an' bone | H |
| An post ourselves as to whether his heart | N |
| Is flesh or a rotten made up stone | H |
| - | |
| VIII | J |
| - | |
| An' it's often seemed on a midnight watch | I2 |
| When the mountains blacken'd the dry brown sod | N |
| That a chap if he shut his eyes might grip | J2 |
| The great kind hand of his Father God | N |
| I rode round the herd at a sort of walk | K2 |
| The shadders come stealin' thick an' black | Z |
| I'd jest got to leave tew that thar chunk | L2 |
| Of a mustang tew keep in the proper track | Z |
| - | |
| IX | F2 |
| - | |
| Ever see'd a herd ring'd in at night | N |
| Wal it's sort of cur'us the watchin' sky | J |
| The howl of coyotes a great black mass | F2 |
| With thar an' thar the gleam of a eye | J |
| An' the white of a horn an' now an' then | P |
| An' old bull liftin' his shaggy head | N |
| With a beller like a broke up thunder growl | M2 |
| An' the summer lightnin' quick an' red | N |
| - | |
| X | F2 |
| - | |
| Twistin' an' turnin' amid the stars | F2 |
| Silent as snakes at play in the grass | F2 |
| An' plungin' thar fangs in the bare old skulls | F2 |
| Of the mountains frownin' above the Pass | F2 |
| An' all so still that the leetle creek | N2 |
| Twinklin' an crinklin' from stone to stone | H |
| Grows louder an' louder an' fills the air | E |
| With a cur'us sort of a singin' tone | H |
| It ain't no matter wharever ye be | J |
| I'll 'low it's a cur'us sort of case | F2 |
| Whar thar's runnin' water it's sure to speak | N2 |
| Of folks tew home an' the old home place | F2 |
| - | |
| XI | J |
| - | |
| An' yer bound tew listen an' hear it talk | K2 |
| Es yer mustang crunches the dry bald sod | N |
| Fur I reckin' the hills an' stars an' creek | N2 |
| Are all of 'em preachers sent by God | N |
| An' them mountains talk tew a chap this way | G |
| Climb if ye can ye degenerate cuss | F2 |
| An' the stars smile down on a man an say | G |
| Come higher poor critter come up tew us | F2 |
| - | |
| XII | F2 |
| - | |
| An' I reckin' pard thar is One above | J |
| The highest old star that a chap can see | F2 |
| An' He says in a solid etarnal way | G |
| Ye never can stop till ye get to ME | F2 |
| Good fur Him tew fur I calculate | N |
| HE ain't the One to dodge an' tew shirk | O2 |
| Or waste a mite of the things He's made | N |
| Or knock off till He's finished His great Day's work | O2 |
| - | |
| XIII | F2 |
| - | |
| We've got to labor an' strain an' snort | N |
| Along thet road thet He's planned an' made | N |
| Don't matter a mite He's cut His line | O |
| Tew run over a 'tarnal tough up grade | N |
| An' if some poor sinner ain't built tew hold | N |
| Es big a head of steam es the next | N |
| An' keeps slippin' an' slidin' 'way down hill | P2 |
| Why He don't make out that He's awful vex'd | N |
| - | |
| XIV | J |
| - | |
| Fur He knows He made Him in that thar way | G |
| Somewhars tew fit In His own great plan | G2 |
| An' He ain't the Bein' tew pour His wrath | Q2 |
| On the head of thet slimpsy an' slippery man | G2 |
| An' He says tew the feller Look here my son | R2 |
| You're the worst hard case that ever I see | F2 |
| But be thet it takes ye a million y'ars | F2 |
| Ye never can stop till ye git tew ME | F2 |
| - | |
| XV | J |
| - | |
| Them's my idees es I pann'd them out | N |
| Don't take no stock in them creeds that say | F2 |
| Thar's a chap with horns thet's took control | S2 |
| Of the rollin' stock on thet up grade way | F2 |
| Thet's free to tote up es ugly a log | T2 |
| Es grows in his big bush grim an' black | Z |
| An' slyly put it across the rails | F2 |
| Tew hist a poor critter clar off the track | Z |
| - | |
| XVI | J |
| - | |
| An' when he's pooty well busted an' smash'd | N |
| The devil comes smilin' an' bowin' round | N |
| Says tew the Maker Guess ye don't keer | E |
| Tew trouble with stock thet ain't parfactly sound | N |
| Lemme tote him away best ye can do | N |
| Neglected I guess tew build him with care | E |
| I'll hide him in hell better thet folks | F2 |
| Shouldn't see him laid up on the track for repair | E |
| - | |
| XVII | J |
| - | |
| Don't take no stock in them creeds at all | U2 |
| Ain't one of them cur'us sort of moles | F2 |
| Thet think the Maker is bound to let | N |
| The devil git up a corner in souls | F2 |
| Ye think I've put up a biggish stake | V2 |
| Wal I'll bet fur all I'm wuth d'ye see | F2 |
| He ain't wuth shucks thet won't dar tew lay | F2 |
| All his pile on his own idee | N |
| - | |
| XVIII | J |
| - | |
| Ye bet yer boots I am safe tew win | W2 |
| Es the chap thet's able tew smilin' smack | Z |
| The ace he's been hidin' up his sleeve | J |
| Kerslap on top of a feller's jack | Z |
| Es I wus sayin' the night wus dark | X2 |
| The lightnin' skippin' from star to star | E |
| Thar wa'n't no clouds but a thread of mist | N |
| No sound but the coyotes yell afar | E |
| - | |
| XIX | F2 |
| - | |
| An' the noise of the creek as it called tew me | F2 |
| Pard don't ye mind the mossy green spot | N |
| Whar a creek stood still fur a drowzin' spell | Y2 |
| Right in the midst of the old home lot | N |
| Whar right at sundown on Sabba'day | N |
| Ye skinn'd yerself of yer meetin' clothes | F2 |
| An dove like a duck whar the water clar | E |
| Shone up like glass through the lily blows | F2 |
| - | |
| XX | F2 |
| - | |
| Yer soul wus white es yer skin them days | F2 |
| Yer eyes es clar es the creek at rest | N |
| The wust idee in yer head thet time | B2 |
| Wus robbin' a bluebird's swingin' nest | N |
| Now ain't ye changed declar fur it pard | N |
| Thet creek would question it 'pears tew me | F2 |
| Ef ye looked in its waters agin tew night | N |
| 'Who may this old cuss of a sinner be ' | - |
| - | |
| XXI | F2 |
| - | |
| Thet wus the style thet thet thar creek | N2 |
| In Old Spookses' Pass in the Rockies talked | N |
| Drowzily list'nin' I rode round the herd | N |
| When all of a sudden the mustang balked | N |
| An' shied with a snort I never know'd | N |
| Thet tough leetle critter tew show a scare | E |
| In storm or dark but he jest scrouch'd down | V |
| With his nostrils snuffin' the damp cool air | E |
| - | |
| XXII | F2 |
| - | |
| An' his flanks a quiver Shook up Wal yes | F2 |
| Guess'd we hev heaps of tarnation fun | R2 |
| I calculated quicker'n light | N |
| That the herd would be off on a healthy run | R2 |
| But thar warn't a stir tew horn or hoof | J |
| The herd like a great black mist lay spread | N |
| While har an' thar a grazin' bull | Z2 |
| Loom'd up like a mighty thunder head | N |
| - | |
| XXIII | F2 |
| - | |
| I riz in my saddle an' star'd around | N |
| On the mustang's neck I felt the sweat | N |
| Thar wus nuthin' tew see sort of felt the har | E |
| Commencin' tew crawl on my scalp ye bet | N |
| Felt kind of cur'us own up I did | N |
| Felt sort of dry in my mouth an' throat | N |
| Sez I Ye ain't goin' tew scare old hoss | F2 |
| At a prowlin' coss of a blamed coyote | F2 |
| - | |
| XXIV | J |
| - | |
| But 'twan't no coyote nor prowlin' beast | N |
| Nor rattle a wrigglin' through the grass | F2 |
| Nor a lurkin' red skin 'twan't my way | F2 |
| In a game like that to sing out I pass | F2 |
| But I know'd when I glimps'd the rollin' whites | F2 |
| The sparks from the black of the mustang's eye | J |
| Thar wus somethin' waltzin' up thet way | F2 |
| Thet would send them critters off on the fly | J |
| - | |
| XXV | J |
| - | |
| In the night air's tremblin' shakin' hands | F2 |
| Felt it beatin' kerslap onto me | F2 |
| Like them waves thet chas'd thet President chap | L |
| Thet went on the war trail in old Judee | N |
| The air wus bustin' but silent es death | A3 |
| An' lookin' up in a second I seed | N |
| The sort of sky thet allers looks down | V |
| On the rush an' the roar of a night stampede | N |
| - | |
| XXVI | J |
| - | |
| Tearin' along the indigo sky | J |
| Wus a drove of clouds snarl'd an' black | Z |
| Scuddin' along to'ards the risin' moon | B3 |
| Like the sweep of a darn'd hungry pack | Z |
| Of preairie wolves to'ard a bufferler | E |
| The heft of the herd left out of sight | N |
| I dror'd my breath right hard fur I know'd | N |
| We wus in fur a'tarnal run thet night | N |
| - | |
| XXVII | J |
| - | |
| Quiet Ye bet The mustang scrounch'd | N |
| His neck stretch'd out an' his nostrils wide | N |
| The moonshine swept a white river down | V |
| The black of the mighty mountain's side | N |
| Lappin' over an' over the stuns an' brush | Q |
| In whirls an' swirls of leapin' light | N |
| Makin' straight fur the herd whar black an' still | P2 |
| It stretch'd away to the left an' right | N |
| - | |
| XXVIII | J |
| - | |
| On the level lot I tell ye pard | N |
| I know'd when it touch'd the first black hide | N |
| Me an' the mustang would hev a show | C3 |
| Fur a breezy bit of an' evenin' ride | N |
| One it flow'd over a homely pine | O |
| Thet riz from a cranny lean an' lank | D3 |
| A cleft of the mountain reckinin' two | N |
| It slapp'd onto an' old steer's heavin' flank | D3 |
| - | |
| XXIX | F2 |
| - | |
| Es sound he slept on the skirt of the herd | N |
| Dreamin' his dreams of the sweet blue grass | F2 |
| On the plains below an' afore it touched | N |
| The other wall of Old Spookses' Pass | F2 |
| The herd wus up not one at a time | B2 |
| Thet ain't the style in a midnight run | R2 |
| They wus up an' off like es all thair minds | F2 |
| Wus roll'd in the hide of only one | R2 |
| - | |
| XXX | F2 |
| - | |
| I've fit in a battle an' heerd the guns | F2 |
| Blasphemin' God with their devils' yell | Y2 |
| Heerd the stuns of a fort like thunder crash | E3 |
| In front of the scream of a red hot shell | Y2 |
| But thet thar poundin' of iron hoofs | F2 |
| The clatter of horns the peltin' sweep | A2 |
| Of three thousand head of a runnin' herd | N |
| Made all of them noises kind of cheap | A2 |
| - | |
| XXXI | F2 |
| - | |
| The Pass jest open'd its giant throat | N |
| An' its lips of granite an' let a roar | E |
| Of answerin' echoes the mustang buck'd | N |
| Then answer'd the bridle an' pard afore | E |
| The twink of a fire bug lifted his legs | F2 |
| Over stuns an' brush like a lopin' deer | E |
| A smart leetle critter An' thar wus I | J |
| 'Longside of the plungin' leadin' steer | E |
| - | |
| XXXII | F2 |
| - | |
| A low set critter not much account | N |
| For heft or looks but one of them sort | N |
| Thet kin fetch a herd at his darn'd heels | F2 |
| With a toss of his horns or a mite of a snort | N |
| Fur a fight or a run an' thar wus I | J |
| Pressin' clus to the steel of his heavin' flank | D3 |
| An' cussin' an' shoutin' while overhead | N |
| The moon in the black clouds tremblin' sank | D3 |
| - | |
| XXXIII | F2 |
| - | |
| Like a bufferler overtook by the wolves | F2 |
| An' pull'd tew the ground by the scuddin' pack | Z |
| The herd rush'd oh with a din an' crash | E3 |
| Dim es a shadder vast an' black | Z |
| Couldn't tell ef a hide wus black or white | N |
| But from the dim surges a roarin' by | J |
| Bust long red flashes the flamin' light | N |
| From some old steer's furious an' scareful eye | J |
| - | |
| XXXIV | J |
| - | |
| Thet pass in the Rockies fairly roar'd | N |
| An sudden' es winkin' came the bang | Y |
| An rattle of thunder Tew see the grit | N |
| Of thet peart little chunk of a tough mustang | Y |
| Not a buck nor a shy he gev a snort | N |
| Thet shook the foam on his steamin' hide | N |
| An' leap'd along Wal pard ye bet | N |
| I'd a healthy show fur a lively ride | N |
| - | |
| XXXV | J |
| - | |
| An' them cowboys slept in the leetle camp | F3 |
| Calm es three kids in a truckle bed | N |
| Declar the crash wus enough tew put | N |
| Life in the dust of the sleepin' dead | N |
| The thunder kept droppin' its awful shells | F2 |
| One at a minute on mountain an' rock | G3 |
| The pass with its stone lips thunder'd back | Z |
| An' the rush an' roar an' whirlin' shock | G3 |
| Of the runnin' herd wus fit tew bust | N |
| A tenderfoot's heart hed he chanc'd along | H3 |
| But I jest let out of my lungs an' throat | N |
| A rippin' old verse of a herdsman's song | H3 |
| - | |
| XXXVI | J |
| - | |
| An' sidl'd the mustang closer up | I3 |
| 'Longside of the leader an' hit him flat | N |
| On his steamin' flank with a lightsome stroke | J3 |
| Of the end of my limber lariat | N |
| He never swerv'd an' we thunder'd on | K3 |
| Black in the blackness red in the red | N |
| Of the lightnin' blazin' with ev'ry clap | L |
| That bust from the black guns overhead | N |
| - | |
| XXXVII | J |
| - | |
| The mustang wus shod an' the lightnin' bit | N |
| At his iron shoes each step he run | R2 |
| Then plung'd in the yearth we rode in flame | L3 |
| Fur the flashes roll'd inter only one | R2 |
| Same es the bellers made one big roar | E |
| Yet thro' the whirl of din an' flame | L3 |
| I sung an' shouted an' call'd the steer | E |
| I sidl'd agin by his own front name | L3 |
| - | |
| XXXVIII | J |
| - | |
| An' struck his side with my fist an' foot | N |
| 'Twas jest like hittin' a rushin' stone | H |
| An' he thunder'd ahead I couldn't boss | F2 |
| The critter a mossel I'm free tew own | H |
| The sweat come a pourin' down my beard | N |
| Ef ye wonder wharfor jest ye spread | N |
| Yerself far a ride with a runnin' herd | N |
| A yawnin' gulch half a mile ahead | N |
| - | |
| XXXIX | F2 |
| - | |
| Three hundred foot from its grinnin' lips | F2 |
| Tew the roarin' stream on its stones below | C3 |
| Once more I hurl'd the mustang up | I3 |
| Agin the side of the cuss call'd Joe | C3 |
| Twan't a mite of use he riz his heels | F2 |
| Up in the air like a scuddin' colt | N |
| The herd mass'd closer an' hurl'd down | V |
| The roarin' Pass like a thunderbolt | N |
| - | |
| XL | C3 |
| - | |
| I couldn't rein off seem'd swept along | H3 |
| In the rush an' roar an' thunderin' crash | E3 |
| The lightnin' struck at the runnin' herd | N |
| With a crack like the stroke of a cowboy's lash | E3 |
| Thar I could see it I tell ye pard | N |
| Things seem'd whittl'd down sort of fine | O |
| We wasn't five hundred feet from the gulch | M3 |
| With its mean little fringe of scrubby pine | O |
| - | |
| XLI | C3 |
| - | |
| What could stop us I grit my teeth | N3 |
| Think I pray'd ain't sartin of thet | N |
| When whizzin' an' singin' thar came the rush | Q |
| Right past my face of a lariat | N |
| Bully fur you old pard I roar'd | N |
| Es it whizz'd roun' the leader's steamin' chest | N |
| An' I wheel'd the mustang fur all he was wuth | N3 |
| Kerslap on the side of the old steer's breast | N |
| - | |
| XLII | C3 |
| - | |
| He gev a snort an' I see him swerve | J |
| I foller'd his shoulder clus an' tight | N |
| Another swerve an' the herd begun | R2 |
| To swing around Shouts I All right | N |
| Ye've fetch'd 'em now The mustang gave | J |
| A small leettle whinney I felt him flinch | O3 |
| Sez I Ye ain't goin' tew weaken now | P3 |
| Old feller an' me in this darn'd pinch | O3 |
| - | |
| XLIII | C3 |
| - | |
| No sez he with his small prickin' ears | F2 |
| Plain es a human could speak an' me | F2 |
| I turn'd my head tew glimpse ef I could | N |
| Who might the chap with the lariat be | F2 |
| Wal Pard I weaken'd ye bet yer life | J |
| Thar wasn't a human in sight around | N |
| But right in front of me come the beat | N |
| Of a hoss's hoofs on the tremblin' ground | N |
| - | |
| XLIV | J |
| - | |
| Steddy an' heavy a slingin' lope | Q3 |
| A hefty critter with biggish bones | F2 |
| Might make jest sich could hear the hoofs | F2 |
| Es they struck on the rattlin' rollin' stones | F2 |
| The jingle of bit an' clar an' shrill | C3 |
| A whistle es ever left cowboy's lip | J2 |
| An' cuttin' the air the long fine hiss | F2 |
| Of the whirlin' lash of a cowboy's whip | J2 |
| - | |
| XLV | J |
| - | |
| I crowded the mustang back ontil | C3 |
| He riz on his haunches an' I sed | N |
| In the Maker's name who may ye be | F2 |
| Sez a vice Old feller jest ride ahead | N |
| All right sez I an' I shook the rein | R3 |
| Ye've turn'd the herd in a hansum style | C3 |
| Whoever ye be I'll not back down | V |
| An' I didn't neither ye bet yer pile | C3 |
| - | |
| XLVI | J |
| - | |
| Clus on the heels of that unseen hoss | F2 |
| I rode on the side of the turnin' herd | N |
| An' once in a while I answer'd back | Z |
| A shout or a whistle or cheerin' word | N |
| From lips no lightnin' was strong tew show | C3 |
| 'Twas sort of scareful that midnight ride | N |
| But we'd got our backs tew the gulch fur that | N |
| I'd hev foller'd a curiouser sort of guide | N |
| - | |
| XLVII | J |
| - | |
| 'Twas kind of scareful tew watch the herd | N |
| Es the plungin' leaders squirm'd an' shrank | D3 |
| Es I heerd the flick of the unseen lash | E3 |
| Hiss on the side of a steamin' flank | D3 |
| Guess the feller was smart at the work | O2 |
| We work'd them leaders round ontil | C3 |
| They overtook the tail of the herd | N |
| An' the hull of the crowd begun tew mill | C3 |
| - | |
| XLVIII | J |
| - | |
| Round spun the herd in a great black wheel | C3 |
| Slower an' slower ye've seen beneath | N3 |
| A biggish torrent a whirlpool spin | W2 |
| Its waters black es the face of Death | N3 |
| 'Pear'd sort of like that the millin' herd | N |
| We kept by the leaders HIM and me | F2 |
| Neck by neck an' he sung a tune | B3 |
| About a young gal nam'd Betsey Lee | F2 |
| - | |
| XLIX | F2 |
| - | |
| Jine in the chorus Wal yas I did | N |
| He sung like a regilar mockin' bird | N |
| An' us cowboys allus sing out ef tew calm | E2 |
| The scare ef we can of a runnin' herd | N |
| Slower an' slower wheel'd round the mill | C3 |
| The maddest old steer of a leader slow'd | N |
| Slower an' slower sounded the hoofs | F2 |
| Of the hoss that HIM in front of me rode | N |
| - | |
| L | C3 |
| - | |
| Fainter an' fainter grow'd that thar song | H3 |
| Of Betsey Lee an' her har of gold | N |
| Fainter an' fainter grew the sound | N |
| Of the unseen hoofs on the tore up mold | N |
| The leadin' steer that cuss of a Joe | C3 |
| Stopp'd an' shook off the foam an' the sweat | N |
| With a stamp and a beller the run was done | R2 |
| Wus glad of it tew yer free tew bet | N |
| - | |
| LI | F2 |
| - | |
| The herd slow'd up an' stood in a mass | F2 |
| Of blackness lit by the lightnin's eye | J |
| An' the mustang cower'd es something swept | N |
| Clus to his wet flank in passin' by | J |
| Good night tew ye Pard Good night sez I | J |
| Strainin' my sight on the empty air | E |
| The har riz rustlin' up on my head | N |
| Now that I hed time tew scare | E |
| - | |
| LII | F2 |
| - | |
| The mustang flinch'd till his saddle girth | N3 |
| Scrap'd on the dust of the tremblin' ground | N |
| There cum a laugh the crack of a whip | J2 |
| A whine like the cry of a well pleas'd hound | N |
| The noise of a hoss thet rear'd an' sprang | Y |
| At the touch of a spur then all was still | F2 |
| But the sound of the thunder dyin' down | V |
| On the stony breast of the highest hill | F2 |
| - | |
| LIII | F2 |
| - | |
| The herd went back to its rest an' feed | N |
| Es quiet a crowd es ever wore hide | N |
| An' them boys in camp never heerd a lisp | S3 |
| Of the thunder an' crash of that run an' ride | N |
| An' I'll never forget while a wild cat claws | F2 |
| Or a cow loves a nibble of sweet blue grass | F2 |
| The cur'us pardner that rode with me | F2 |
| In the night stampede in Old Spookses Pass | F2 |
Isabella Valancy Crawford
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About Old Spookses' Pass
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