Let me die on the prairie! and o’er my rude grave,
In the soft breeze of summer the tall grass shall wave;
I would breathe my last sigh as the bright hues of even
Are melting away in the blue arch of Heaven.
Let me die on the prairie! unwept and unknown,
I would pass from this fair Earth forgotten, alone;—
Yet no! – there are hearts I have learned to revere,
And methinks there is bliss in affection’s warm tear.
Oh, speak not to me of the green cypress shade;
And the deer will bound o’er me with step light and free,
And the carol of birds will my requiem be.
Let me die on the prairie! I have wished for it long;
There floats in wild numbers the bold hunter’s song;
’Tis the spot of all others the dearest to me,
And how sweet in its bosom my slumber will be!
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