Ever the Prospector.

BEYOND THE RANGE

 by Sharlot Hall

Now, here I cache the useless pack

I nevermore shall need;

And here I take the Longest Trail

Wherever it may lead.

Beyond the Range—beyond the range

Oh, strong and sure and free!

I quest for more than life has brought

And more than eyes can see.

Oh, desert skies and desert stars

And desert trails I knew;

Brown peaks that hold the dream of gold,

I turn no more to you.

Oh, nevermore I turn to you

At dawn or set of sun—

For campfire's light, or nuggets bright

The golden day is done.

Now, stake for me a last and final claim

And lay them there to rest

The trailworn feet, the weary hands,

The still heart in my breast.

Earth's last prospecting trip is done,

But somewhere, strong and sure,

My spirit seeks the Mother-lode

Whose treasure shall endure.

Out, out beyond the farthest star,

Beyond the last lone peak;

More fair than desert-born mirage

The Glory Land I seek.

No monuments are on the trail,

The way is dim and strange—

But light of God is on the land

That lies Beyond the Range.

(by Sharlot Hall, from Poems of a Ranch Woman, 1953)