William Lawrence Chittenden Poems

To Judge A. H. Willie

I crave not for her cities
Not towns where man hath trod,
...

He wears a big hat and big spurs and all that,
And leggins of fancy fringed leather;
He takes pride in his boots and the pistol he shoots
...

You can tell him by his 'weepons!'
And his soft, confiding air,
His bran-new gorgeous outfit,
And his high-priced aged mare.
...

Afar from the tumult and turmoil of fashion,
Away, far away, from the throng that intrudes;
I am free from all envy and malice and passion
...

When I give up trail-herdin', an' thought I'd jes' vamoose,
An' see my nativ' kentry in a first-class freight caboos ...
...

He's a quiet, easy fellow, with his pants tucked in his boots,
And he wears a big revolver which he seldom ever shoots;
...

Hence to-day all stock unbranded
Bear that early settler's name,
...