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Rider of the high trails, equally at ease astride Pegasus or the Roan Cayuse. There is no author attributed in that instance, either. You can see the poem in that Life magazine herein an edition that has been digitized by Google Book Search.
Thanks to Jeri Dobrowski for the book jacket image; she has a rare copy with a jacket in her collection. Other states were carved or born Texas grew from hide and horn. Other states are long and wide, Texas is a shaggy hide. Dripping blood and crumpled hair; Some fat giant flung it there, Laid the head where valleys drain, Stretched its rump along the plain.
Other soil is full of stones, Texans plow up cattle-bones. Herds are buried on the trail, Underneath the powdered shale; Herds that stiffened like the snow, Where the icy northers go. Other states have built their halls, Humming tunes along the walls.
Texans watched the mortar stirred, While they kept the lowing herd. Stamped on Texan wall and roof Gleams the sharp and crescent hoof. High above the hum and stir Jingle bridle rein and spur.
Other states were made or born, Texas grew from hide and horn. O cruel road to Texas, How many hearts you broke Before you gave to Texas The rugged strength of oak! Frank Dobie writes, "The map of Texas looks somewhat like a roughly skinned cowhide spread out on the ground, the tail represented by the tapering peninsula at the mouth of the Rio Grande, the broad head by the Panhandle.
But 'Cattle,' by Berta Hart Nance, goes deeper than the map. Inher book-length poem about Texas was published, The Round-Up. She had two other books of poetry published, and her work was included in many anthologies. Berta Hart Nance was also an accomplished singer and violinist, and the Old Jail Art Center in Albany, Texas, near her birthplace, includes correspon dence, newspaper articles, her violin, and other materials.
That book also contains her poem, "The Road to Texas," from which the book takes it title. The look upon his youthful face Was sinister and dark, And the pistol in his scabbard Had never missed its mark. The moonlight on the river Was bright as molten ore The ripples broke in whispers Along the sandy shore.
The breath of prairie flowers Had made the night-wind sweet, And a mockingbird made merry In a lacy-leafed mesquite.
Death looked toward the river, He looked toward the land He took his broad sombrero off And held it in his hand, And death felt something touch him He could not understand.
The lights at Madden's ranch-house Were brighter than the moon, The girls came tripping in like deer, The fiddles were in tune, And death saw through the window The man he came to kill, And he that did not hesitate Sat hesitating still A cloud came over the moon, The moon came out and smiled, A coyote howled upon the hill, The mockingbird went wild.
Death drew his hand across his brow, As if to move a stain, Then slowly turned his pinto horse And rode away again. A review of that book by C. Dwight Dorough in the South Central Bulletin singles out the poem, "'Death Rode a Pinto Pony' by Whitney Montgomery merits attention as a Romantic ballad which depicts death not as the traditional 'grim reaper' but as a gunman, who, though out to get his man, is so touched by the beauty of the moonlight on the river, prairie flowers, a mockingbird in a "lacy-leafed mesquite" that he lets his man off for the time.Synopsis.
Natalie Cole was born in Los Angeles, California, on February 6, , to singers Nat King Cole and Maria Cole. Although she didn't plan on a singing career, she took a summer job.
Dear Twitpic Community - thank you for all the wonderful photos you have taken over the years. We have now placed Twitpic in an archived state. Moderation / Criticism / Exposition / Exposés David Aaronovitch. Catholics try, rather unconvincingly, to show how conferring sainthood is different in principle to the pagan apotheosis (the process that made Claudius, for instance, into a God), but the distinction doesn't quite wash.
. “New Line has long been home to weird shows – and this one, from the creators of Urinetown, might be the weirdest yet.
Single-cell organisms, singing and dancing in the primordial ooze, more of less simultaneously discover love and dynastic tragedy. Cole Porter Quotes Quotes about: Divine Falling In Love Heaven Inspiration Irving Berlin Love Writing He may have hair upon his chest but, sister, so has Lassie.
Cole Porter “The s-era house, which has about 21 rooms, had fallen into disrepair over the years. It had been split into several apartments, and police found a methamphetamine lab in one of the apartments two years ago.