I THINK we can all remember when a Greaser hadn't no show In Palo Pinto particular,— it ain't very long ago; A powerful feelin' of hatred ag'in the whole Greaser race That murdered bold Crockett and Bowie pervaded all in the place. Why, the boys would draw on a Greaser as quick as they would on a steer; They was shot down without warnin' often, in the memory of many here. One day the bark of pistols was heard ringin' out in the air, And a Greaser, chased by some ranchmen, tore round here into the square. I don't know what he's committed,—'tain't likely anyone knew,— But I wouldn't bet a check on the issue; if you knew the gang, neither would you. Breathless and bleeding, the Greaser fell down by the side of the wall; And a man sprang out before him,— a man both strong and tall,— By his clothes I should say a cowboy,— a stranger in town, I think,— With his pistol he waved back the gang, who was wild with rage and drink. "I warn ye, get back!" he said, "or I'll blow your heads in two!" A dozen on one poor creature, and him wounded and bleeding, too!" The gang stood back for a minute; then up spoke Poker Bill: "Young man, yer a stranger, I reckon. We don't wish yer any ill; But come out of the range of the Greaser, or, as sure as I live, you'll croak;" And he drew a bead on the stranger. I'll tell yer it wa'n't no joke. But the stranger moven' no muscle as he looked in the bore of Bill's gun; He hadn't no thought to stir, sir; he hadn't no thought to run; But he spoke out cool and quiet, "I might live for a thousand year And not die at last so nobly as defendin' this Greaser here; For he's wounded, now, and helpless, and hasn't had no fair show; And the first of ye boys that strikes him, I'll lay that first one low." The gang respected the stranger that for another was willing to die; They respected the look of daring they saw in that cold, blue eye. They saw before them a hero that was glad in the right to fall; And he was a Texas cowboy,— never heard of Rome at all. Don't tell me of yer Romans, or yer bridge bein' held by three; True manhood's the same in Texas as it was in Rome, d'ye see? Did the Greaser escape? Why certain. I saw the hull crowd over thar At the ranch of Bill Simmons, the gopher, with their glasses over the bar. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE THRUSH'S NEST by JOHN CLARE SHELTERED GARDEN by HILDA DOOLITTLE WHAT THE SONNET IS by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 51 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE MERRIMAC by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER OUR BIRTH-CORD by KOFI ANYIDOHO THE RIVER STOUR by WILLIAM BARNES EMANCIPATION IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, APRIL 16, 1862 by JAMES MADISON BELL |