On the Old Buffalo Trail, I'm glad this autumn day That I'm alive to see the sun and frost-nipped leaves' array, To drink the sparkling water as it bubbles from the spring, And far-off hear ghost-horses' hooves sharp on the pebbles ring. O, Old Buffalo Trail, I'd dearly like to hear your story Of men who went to blaze the way, and men who went to glory, As Indians burned and massacred and sought to keep the West, While plundering long caravans of pioneers at rest. Do you recall, Old Buffalo Trail, one hundred summers after, How Southern beaux and Southern belles, with dancing and with laughter, With languor and with loving and with moonlit rendezvousing Walked your paths beneath the moon and carried on their wooing? Now all is changed. There dwell among your blue and smoky hills A race of hardy moonshiners who operate their stills, And sell their corn to Northern folk, who've come here to get well. O, Buffalo Trail, what legends and what marvels you could tell! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DEATH IN THE DESERT by ROBERT BROWNING SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL CAVALRY CROSSING A FORD by WALT WHITMAN MEMORY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS MY ONLY TITLE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE SAME FOREVER by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR |