I know so well That he ain't here no more! What good to me is a vague "maybe" Or a mournful "might have been," For the sun wheels swift from morn to morn And the world began when I was born And the world is mine to win. Rather, he was an affable, hardworking cowhand who enjoyed sharing the free life of the range with his friends. The company established Pullman, Illinois now part of Chicago , as a model town for workers and their families. The sunburnt demigods who ranged And laughed and lived so free Have topped the last divide, or changed To men like you and me. The racial segregation that came to be enforced at the end of the nineteenth century was not yet present in the early days of Dodge City, and the sight of blacks and whites eating and drinking together in integrated saloons, restaurants and hotels was not uncommon.
Even experienced and well-respected cowhands and top hands had little chance of ever being promoted to foreman of a cattle outfit. And it sounded good and gay. Cowhands would spend upwards of two months on the trail, sleeping on the hard ground in the elements, working every waking hour to keep the cattle from wandering off, being stolen or getting killed. Where, in the valley fields and fruits, Now hums a lively street, We milled a mob of fighting brutes Among the grim mesquite. But the bright campfire light only dances for a night, While the home-fire burns forever clear and true, So 'round the year I circle back to you, Old folks, 'Round the rovin' year I circle back to you. The first significant number of black cowboys was found in Texas prior to the Civil War. Most of them were slaves owned by white ranchers, but some were freemen. Nights I drove her home from dances When the east was turning gray. Find a video here on YouTube. The prevalence of African-American troops — the famous Buffalo Soldiers — in the United States Army acclimated western whites to seeing black men bearing arms. The sunrise plains are a tender haze And the sunset seas are gray, But I stand here, where the bright skies blaze Over me and the big today. Our days are sun and storm and mist, The same as any life, Except that in our trouble list We never count a wife. It can be eternally debated whether Love earned his place in the mythology of the West through feats with a horse, rope and gun, or only through feats with a pen, but either way he earned it. He was known for drunken, prankish acts of bravado, such as riding as horse into a saloon and ordering whiskey for both himself and the horse, or lassoing a cannon at an Army fort and attempting to ride off with it. So I jumped and sweat for a flat-foot boss Till my pocket bulged with pay, But my heart it fought like a led bronc hawse Till I flung my drill away. Out that dim trail that only leads one way He's gone--and left me here! The trail's a lane, the trail's a lane, How comes it, pard of mine? Today, some way, their laughin' hurts me so. So the wimmin laughed while night reeled by And the wine ran red and gold, But their laugh was the starved wolf's huntin' cry And their eyes were hard and old. The bird songs make me sore. More than these antics, though, Love was known for riding the cattle trails and doing what needed to be done in a rough situation. Nat developed useful skills in his youth, such as horsemanship and hunting, but there were few prospects for a young black man in s Tennessee other than a lifetime of backbreaking farm work for former slave masters. Impressed by the fight that he has put up, the tribe feeds Love and tends to his wounds. Seems like that country must be cold and dim. Let me hit the old kid gait, For tonight I'm stumblin' tired of the new And I'm ridin' up the Christmas trail to you, Old folks, I'm a-ridin' up the Christmas trail to you.
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