Page:Songs and Sonnets (1906).djvu/35



, there's nothing like the prairie
 * When the wind is in your face,

And a thunder-storm is brewing,
 * And night comes down apace—

'Tis then you feel the wonder
 * And immensity of space!

Far in the gathering darkness
 * Against the dying day

The ghostly hills are lying,
 * The hills that stand for aye—

How in the dusk they glimmer
 * And palpitate away!

Behind them still there lingers
 * A hint of sunset gold;

The trail before you stretches,
 * A long black ribbon unrolled—

Long and black and narrow,
 * Where the buffalo trod of old.