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...AN EXPATIATION ON THE COMBINING OF WEATHERS AT THIRTY .... by HAYDEN CARRUTH AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON PENMAEN POOL by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF 27 B.C. by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEACE GUARANTEED by MARY J. ARMSTRONG THE TIMES by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |