To Her

Cut loose a hundred rivers
Roaring across my trail
Swift as the lightning quivers
Loud as a mountain gale
I build me a boat of slivers;
I weave me a sail of fur
And ducks may founder and die
But I
Cross that river to her!

Bunch the deserts together
Hang three suns in the vault;
Scorch the lizards to leather
Strangle the springs with salt
I fly with a buzzard feather
I dig me wells with a spur
And snakes may famish and fry
But I
Cross that desert to her!

Murder my sleep with revel;
Make me ride through the bogs
Knee to knee with the devil
Just ahead of the dogs
I harrow the Bad Lands level
I teach the tiger to purr
For saints may wallow and lie
But I
Go clean-hearted to her!