From The Sun, August 27, 1913. By Arthur Chapman.
The sailor loves the craft he sails—
He loves each bolt and spar;
The horseman loves the steed that bears
Him o’er the plains afar;
But there is love surpassing all
Writ in the sailor’s log;
It is the love that dwells betwixt
The sheepman and his dog.
The love is born of lonely nights
And days upon the plain,
Of storms upon the mountain tops,
Of toil in cold and rain;
At even, in the fire glow,
What comradeship so strong
As that ‘twixt dog and shepherd when
The night wind sings its song?
The ranch lights twinkle o’er the ways
Where many comrades tramped;
They light the uplands, once so drear,
Where dog and herder camped;
But still that friendship must abide
In newer fields afar,
For love that’s born of lonely life
Is deathless as a star.
Comments are closed.