Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1882-12-06
4ancaster fntelligenrer.
WEDNESDAY EVENING. DEC. 8. lss2
LASCA.

WEDNESDAY EVENING. DEC. 9. les2.
LASCA.
In Texas. Dow. BY the Rio Grande.
I want free life and I want fresh air;
And sigh for the canter after the cattle,
The cracks OF the whip like shouts in 4 battle,
The melley of horns and hoofs and heads
That wars and wrangles and scatters and
spreads;
The green beneath and the blue above
And dash and danger, and life and love.
And Lasca:
Lasca used to ride
On q mouse-grey mustang close by my side,
With blue serape and bright belied spur:
I laughed with JOY As looked at her!
Little knew she OF books or OF creeds:
An Ave Maria sufhced her needs
Little she cared, save to be by my side,
To ride with me. and ever to ride.
From San Saba's shore to Lavaca's tide.
She was as bold as the billows that beat.
She was as wild as the breezes that blow:
From her little head TO her little feet
She vas swaycd in her suppleness to and fro
BY each gust OF passion; sapling pine,
That grows on the edge of a Kansas blun.
And wars with the wind when the weather Is
rough.
Is like this Lasca. this love OF mine.
She would hunger that might eat.
Would take the bitter and leave me the sweet;
But once. when made her jealous for fun,
At something Id whispered, or looked, or
done,
One Sunday, In San Antonio,
To II glorious girl on the Alamo,
sHe drew from her garter dear lille dagger
And-sting OF a wasp-it made me stagger!
An inch to the left, Or an inch to The right,
And shouldn't DC cmaundering here tonight
But she sObbed, and sobbing, so swiftly bound
Her torn reLoso about the wound.
That quite for fOrgave her. Scratches don't
count
In Texas. down by the Rio Grandc.
Her eye was brown-a deep, deep brown!
Her hair WAS darker than her eye;
AMI something in her smile and frown,
Curied crimson lip and instcp high,
showed that there ran in each blue vein,
Mixed with the milder Aztec strain.
The vigorous vintage OF Old Spain.
She was alive in every limb
With feeling, to the fngcr.tips:
And when the sun is like a fire,
And sky one shining soft sapphire
One does not drink in little sips.
The air was heavy. the night was hot;
l SIT: by her side. and forgut-forgot
Forgot the herd that were taking their rest.
Forgot that the air was close Opprcst,
That the Texas nOrthcr comes sudden and
soon,
In the dead OF night or the blaze of noon
That once let the herd ut its breath take fright
That nothing on earth can stop the flight;
And woe 10 the rider, and woe to the steed,
Who falls in front OF their mad stamrede!
Was that thunder? No, by the Lord.
1 spring to my saddle without e word.
One foot on mine. and she clung behind.
Away on a hot chase down the wind
But never was lox-hunt half so hard,
And never was steed so little spared,
For we rode tor our lives You shall hear how
we fared
In Texas, down by the Kio Grandc.
The mustang flew, and We urged him Oh;
There was one chance LETT, and you have but
enc;
Halt, jump TO ground, and shoot your horse;
Crouch under his carcasc, and take your
chance;
and il the steers I'm their frantic course
Don't batter you both to pieces at once,
fon may thank your star i; not, goodbye
70 the quickening kiss and the long drawn
sigh,
And the open air and tho open sky,
In Texas. down by the l:Io Granie!
The cattle gained on us and, just as fclt
For my Old six-shOoter down in my belt.
Down came tho mustang, and down came We,
Clinging together, and-what was the rest:
A body that spread itself on my breast,
Two arms thas shielded my dizzy head,
Two lips that hard on my lips were pr.st;
Then came thunder in my ears,
AS over US surgad the sea OF steers,
Blows that beat blood into my eyes,
And when could rise,
I.asca was dead!
SOu,,e.i out u grave 4 few feet deep.
And there in Eurth's arms laid her to sleep {;
And there she is lying, and no one knows,
Ana the summer shines and the winter SHOWS: :
For many day the flowers have spread
A pail OF petals over her head;
And the little gray hawk hangs aloft In tho
air,
And the sly coyote trOts here and there,
And the black snake slidcs and gliiters and
slides
Into a rift in a cottonwood tree;
And the buzzard sails on,
And comes and is gone,
Stately and still, like ship at sea;
And wonder why do not care
For the things that arc Ike this things that
were.
Does half my heart lie buried there,
In Texas down by the Rio Grande:
-Fran. Dcspre-.