Now, if any man here envies Brigham Young
Let him go to the Great Salt Lake;
And if he has the leisure to enjoy his pleasure,
He'll find it a great mistake.
One wife at a time, so says my rhyme,
Is enough,—there's no denial;—
So, before you strive to be lord of forty-five,
Take two for a month on trial.
I am an old man some sixty years old
And that you can plain-li see,
But when I was a young man ten years old
They made a stable boy of me.
I have seen the fastest horses
That made the fastest time,
But I never saw one in all my life
Like that old gray mule of mine.
On a Sunday morn I dress myself,
A-goin' out to ride;
Now, my old mule is as gray as a bird,
Then he is full of his pride.
He never runs away with you,
Never cuts up any shine;
For the only friend I have on earth
Is this old gray mule of mine.
Now my old gray mule is dead and gone,
Gone to join the heavenly band,
With silver shoes upon his feet
To dance on the golden strand.
When gold was found in forty-eight the people thought 'twas gas,
And some were fools enough to think the lumps were only brass.
But soon they all were satisfied and started off to mine;
They bought their ships, came round the Horn, in the days of forty-nine.
Refrain:
Then they thought of what they'd been told
When they started after gold,—
That they never in the world would make a pile.