Zane Grey

"O bury me not on the lone prairie,
The word came low and mournfully
From the pallid lips of a boy who lay
On his death bed at the close of day.

He had wrestled with apain till o'er his brow
Death's shadows fast were creeping now;
He thought of his home and the loved ones nigh
As the cowboys gathered to see him die.

"O bury me not"- and his voice failed there,
But we paid no heed to his dying prayer ;
In a shallow grave just six by trhee
We buried him there on the lone prairie.

Where the dew drops shine.- "