The Desert Rat
by George F. Herrick
circa 1930s
A stake of grub and a heavy pack
A desert trail and a long eared jack
No human friend, but for all of that
I'm contented to be a desert rat.
A shelter of rock and a grease wood fire
A mountain peak for my temple spire
My alter of worship a sage brush knoll
Where the Great Voice speaks to my faltering soul.
The evening stars in the firmament
Speak to me when day is spent
In a language that I learned from them
Not spoken by the tongues of men.
The book of life is mine to read
It speaks not of a sect or creed
Therein is writ in prose and verse
The secrets of the universe.
I follow the trail long ages old
Toward the rainbow's end and the pot of gold
Though failure is mine for my labor spent
I am recompensed; I am content.
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