A SADDLE SONG
“The jingle of spur and rattle of rein; the musical squeak of good saddle leather.”
“The jingle of spur and rattle of rein; the musical squeak of good saddle leather.”
To horse! as rode the knights of old for tourney and affray;To horse! the world is wide, and ours, free heart and summer day:Oh! Laughter now shall be our god and every care take wings,And we’ll take our marching orders from the song the saddle sings.The gipsey blood is coursing red along each leaping vein;We are brothers to the bursting flower and kindred with the rain:How the voice of nature calls us! How it beckons! How it rings,In the echoes of the marching song the old saddle sings!The fir trees standing sentinel upon the mountain’s crestHave sent their message on the wind to fill us with unrest;To mingle with our dreams the scent the healing balsam flings,And blend the forest whispers with the song the saddle sings.O jingling spur and rattling rein, brown earth and bending sky,We turn to you to brim again the cup of life run dry;Take toll of all the fancied gain that hard-spent striving brings,But set our days in measure with the song the saddle sings.