Where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard,
A discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.
How often at night
When the heavens are bright
With the lights from the glittering stars
Have I stood there amazed
And asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours.
Oh, give me a land
Where the bright diamond sand
Flows leisurely down the stream;
There the graceful, white swan
Goes gliding along
Like a maid in a heavenly dream.
Where the air is so pure,
The zephyrs so free,
The breezes so balmy and light,
That I would not exchange
My home on the range
For all of the cities so bright.
Oh, I love those wild flowers
In this dear land of ours,
The curlew I love to hear scream,
And I love the white rocks
And the antelope flocks
That graze on the mountain tops green.
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by Christina
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