A little book of tribune verse :: :: University of Virginia Library

Is it you, old pard, with your whitened hair
An' your rugged beard laid on your breast,
And your pale eyes sot in a deathly stare,
That's taking your last and lonely rest
'Mid the snow-capped Rockies?

I knowed him, sir, when his eyes was clear,
When his face was smooth as a smilin' girl's,
When his limbs was as fleet as the frightened deer,
When his head was covered with nut-brown curls,
'Twas a long, long time ago.

He was with Jim Lane, a han'some lad,
And we done our likeliest—him and me—
An' it's many a narrer chance we had
Along the border, but what cared we,
In them days down in Kansas!

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When the war came on, then me and Jim
Saddled our horses and rode away,
And fit for the Union—me and him—
Till all unsullied out o' the fray
We come with Kansas.

Is it you, old pard, with your frosted hair,
An' your crawny beard swep' down your breast,
An' your brave eyes fixed in a ghastly stare,
That has laid down here on the icy crest
O' the snow-capped Rockies?

S'posin' we hide his furrowed face
Under that yonder moanin' pine;
And on the stone that marks the place,
We'll carve naught else but the simple line,
“Formerly of Kansas.”

March 10th, 1883.