But a larger soul rides in the list, And swings a lariat in his fist— ('Tis only a habit from earlier date, For now he is dealing in real estate)— And he cries, "The West! The wild, wide West! From Nome to Frisco, the last and best!" It tingles my blood like a veteran's gun, And I cheer for the land of the setting sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A DOG by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 42. 'GRECIAN AND ENGLISH' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SILVER ANNIVERSARY by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL JEFFERSON DAVIS by WALKER MERIWETHER BELL |