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WE wake the prairie echoes with | |
The ever-welcome sound, | |
Ring out the boot and saddle till | |
Its stirring notes resound. | |
Our horses toss their bridled heads | 5 |
And chafe against the reins; | |
Ring out, ring out the marching call | |
Of the Riders of the Plains. | |
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Full many a league oer prairie wild | |
Our trackless path must be, | 10 |
And round it roam the fiercest tribes | |
Of Blackfoot and of Cree; | |
But danger from their savage bands | |
Our dauntless heart disdains, | |
That heart which bears the helmet up | 15 |
Of the Riders of the Plains. | |
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The thunderstorm sweeps oer our way, | |
But onward still we go; | |
We scale the rugged mountain range, | |
Descend the valleys low; | 20 |
We face the dread Saskatchewan, | |
Brimmed high with heavy rains; | |
With all his might he cannot check | |
The Riders of the Plains. | |
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We muster but three hundred | 25 |
In all this great lone land, | |
Which stretches oer the continent | |
To where the Rockies stand; | |
But not one heart doth falter, | |
No coward voice complains, | 30 |
That few, too few, in numbers are | |
The Riders of the Plains. | |
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Our mission is to plant the rule | |
Of Britains freedom here, | |
Restrain the lawless savage, and | 35 |
Protect the pioneer; | |
And tis a proud and daring trust | |
To hold these vast domains, | |
With but three hundred mounted men, | |
The Riders of the Plains. | 40 |
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We bear no lifted banner, | |
The soldiers care and pride; | |
No waving flag leads onward | |
Our horsemen when they ride; | |
The sense of duty well discharged | 45 |
All idle thought sustains, | |
No other spur to action need | |
The Riders of the Plains. | |
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