Books are delightful society. If you go into a room and find it full of books - even without taking them from the shelves they seem to speak to you, to bid you welcome.
William Ewart Gladstone
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Song of Wyoming
Well, I'm weary and tired, I've done my day's riding
Nighttime is rolling my way
The sky's all on fire and the light's slowly fading
Peaceful and still ends the day
Out on the trail night birds are calling
Singing their wild melody
Down in the canyon cottonwood whispers
A Song of Wyoming for me
Well, I've wandered around the town and the city
Tried to figure the how and the why
Well, I've stopped all my scheming
I'm just drifting and dreaming
Watching the river roll by
Here comes that big old prairie moon rising
Shining down bright as can be
Up on the hill there's a coyote singing
A Song of Wyoming for me
Now it's whiskey and tobacco and bitter black coffee
A lonesome old dogie am I
But waking up on the range
Lord I feel like an angel
Free like I almost could fly
Drift like a cloud out over the badlands
Sing like a bird in the tree
The wind in the sage sounds like heaven singing
A Song of Wyoming for me
A Song of Wyoming for me