Of the West, Our Home of Rest

Across the plains, toward the setting of the sun
We travel to take our stand; life has just begun;
In twilight of plateau height, we claim our right
With might of our determination, our exaltation
Without resignation, and ne’er any intimidation
Or intimation of defeat thru sheets of raining,
Snow and sleet, we make a street thru neat rows
Of golden wheat, not to be turned by cold or heat;
Westward we march, calloused feet fit for march
To new and better land past dust, sweat and sand;
And we have met the angel band leading us home
Where the buffalo roam ever so grand oer best
Of the West, our new-found home of ever-rest.

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