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Up the dusk-enfolded prairie, Foot-falls, soft and sly, Velvet cushioned, wild and wary, Then—the coyote's cry.

Rush of hoofs, and roar and rattle, Beasts of blood and breed, Twenty thousand frightened cattle, Then—the wild stampede.

Pliant lasso circling wider In the frenzied flight— Loping horse and cursing rider, Plunging through the night.

Rim of dawn the darkness losing Trail of blackened soil; Perfume of the sage brush oozing On the air like oil.

Foothills to the Rockies lifting Brown, and blue, and green, Warm Alberta sunlight drifting Over leagues between.

That's the country of the ranges, Plain and prairie land, And the God who never changes Holds it in His hand.