He pulled out his life-preserver, and with a "one, two, three, four,"
Blotted out a spot with every shot;
For he had traveled with a circus and was a fancy pistol shot.
"I have one more left, kind sir, if you wish to call the play."
Then Hanke stepped up to the stranger and made a neat apology,
"Why, the lions in the mountains,—that was nothing but a joke.
Never mind about the extra, you are a bad shooting man,
And I'm a meek little child and as harmless as a lamb."
I have been thinking to-day,
As my thoughts began to stray,
Of your memory to me worth more than gold.
As you ride across the plain,
'Mid the sunshine and the rain,—
You will be rounded up in glory bye and bye.
Chorus:
You will be rounded up in glory bye and bye,
You will be rounded up in glory bye and bye,
When the milling time is o'er
And you will stampede no more,
When he rounds you up within the Master's fold.
As you ride across the plain
With the cowboys that have fame,
And the storms and the lightning flash by.
We shall meet to part no more
Upon the golden shore
When he rounds us up in glory bye and bye.
May we lift our voices high
To that sweet bye and bye,
And be known by the brand of the Lord;
For his property we are,
And he will know us from afar
When he rounds us up in glory bye and bye.
It was on a cold and stormy night
I saw and heard an awful sight;
The lightning flashed and thunder rolled
Around my poor benighted soul.
I thought I heard a mournful sound
Among the groans still lower down,
That awful sight no tongue can tell
Is this,—the place called Drunkard's Hell.