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قراءة كتاب Songs of the Prairie
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 1
SONGS OF THE
PRAIRIE
BY
ROBERT J. C. STEAD
Author of "PRAIRIE BORN."
New York
THE PLATT & PECK CO.
Copyright 1912, By
The Platt & Peck Co.
CONTENTS
| PAGE | |
| THE PRAIRIE | 1 |
| THE GRAMOPHONE | 4 |
| THE PLOW | 8 |
| THE MOTHERING | 12 |
| HUSTLIN' IN MY JEANS | 15 |
| THE HOMESTEADER | 20 |
| VAIN SUITORS | 24 |
| GOD'S SIGNALMAN | 26 |
| GOING HOME | 32 |
| JUST BE GLAD | 38 |
| THE CANADIAN ROCKIES | 40 |
| A PRAIRIE HEROINE | 42 |
| THE SEER | 51 |
| THE SON OF MARQUIS NODDLE | 56 |
| THE PRODIGALS | 62 |
| THE SQUAD OF ONE | 64 |
| ALKALI HALL | 70 |
| PRAIRIE BORN | 76 |
| "A COLONIAL" | 81 |
| LITTLE TIM TROTTER | 84 |
| THE VORTEX | 86 |
| THE OLD GUARD | 91 |
| KID McCANN | 93 |
| WHO OWNS THE LAND? | 99 |
| A RACE FOR LIFE | 103 |
The City? Oh, yes, the City
Is a good enough place for a while,
It fawns on the clever and witty,
And welcomes the rich with a smile;
It lavishes money as water,
It boasts of its palace and hall,
But the City is only the daughter—
The Prairie is mother of all!
Is a good enough place for a while,
It fawns on the clever and witty,
And welcomes the rich with a smile;
It lavishes money as water,
It boasts of its palace and hall,
But the City is only the daughter—
The Prairie is mother of all!
The City is all artificial,
Its life is a fashion-made fraud,
Its wisdom, though learned and judicial,
Is far from the wisdom of God;
Its hope is the hope of ambition,
Its lust is the lust to acquire,
And the larger it grows, its condition
Sinks lower in pestilent mire.
Its life is a fashion-made fraud,
Its wisdom, though learned and judicial,
Is far from the wisdom of God;
Its hope is the hope of ambition,
Its lust is the lust to acquire,
And the larger it grows, its condition
Sinks lower in pestilent mire.
The City is cramped and congested,
The haunt and the covert of crime;
The Prairie is broad, unmolested,
It points to the high and sublime;
Where only the sky is above you
And only the distance in view,
With no one to jostle or shove you—
It's there a man learns to be true!
The haunt and the covert of crime;
The Prairie is broad, unmolested,
It points to the high and sublime;
Where only the sky is above you
And only the distance in view,
With no one to jostle or shove you—
It's there a man learns to be true!
Where