THE WHITE STEED OF THE PRAIRIES

Mount, mount for the chase! let your lassos be strong,

And forget not sharp spur and tough buffalo thong;

For the quarry ye seek hath oft baffled, I ween,

Steeds swift as your own, backed by hunters as keen.

Fleet barb of the prairie, in vain they prepare

For thy neck, arched in beauty, the treacherous snare;

Thou wilt toss thy proud head, and with nostrils stretched wide,

Defy them again, as thou still hast defied.

Trained nags of the course, urged by rowel and rein,