I am riding o’er the prairies
When the dark is drawing night;
O’er the dusk enfolded prairies
Neath a mystic night blue sky.
And I check my horse to listen
As I hear a coyote’s cry.
Father rode a night black charger
Long ago when he was young.
I have heard of mid-night races
On the prairies grasslands sung.
From that stack of able riders,
I, a rider too, have sprung.
I was born upon the prairies
Where the herded cattle roam.
I was bred amid the riders
And the saddle is my home.
And I’m racing o’er the prairies
When dark dims the azure dome.
– Circa 1927