The cattle country

Up the dusk-enfolded prairie,
 Foot-falls, soft and sly,
Velvet cushioned, wild and wary,
 Then--the coyote's cry.

Rush of hoofs, and roar and rattle,
 Beasts of blood and breed,
Twenty thousand frightened cattle,
 Then--the wild stampede.

Pliant lasso circling wider
 In the frenzied flight--
Loping horse and cursing rider,
 Plunging through the night.

Rim of dawn the darkness losing
 Trail of blackened soil;
Perfume of the sage brush oozing
 On the air like oil.

Foothills to the Rockies lifting
 Brown, and blue, and green,
Warm Alberta sunlight drifting
 Over leagues between.

That's the country of the ranges,
 Plain and prairie land,
And the God who never changes
 Holds it in His hand.