OVER the lonely prairie

The autumn twilight dies;

Quick, fitful winds through the hollows pass

That moan and sigh in the long, dry grass,

And ever a kildee cries.

The hovering darkness gathers;

But what is the rose tint there,

That flushes the far horizon

Like a turbulent city's glare?

It gathers and grows and widens,

It swallows the southward sky

And the timid wind, like a hunted deer,

Makes pause to hearken, then leaps in fear

And wails as it hurries by.

The heavens glow red to the zenith

In the ominous, fevered light,

And the glimmering hilltops waver,

Sharp-drawn on the walls of night.

And now, as a wide-flung army,

Hurled hot on the foemen's spears,

With plumes of smoke on its tossing head,

With flaring banners and lances red,

The wavering flood appears.

It runs like a wolf in hunger,

It roars like a mountain storm,

And before it the fleeing creatures

Far over the prairie swarm.

Pigeon and grouse and plover,

The air is alive with wings,

And the firm ground shakes with the pounding feet

Of bellowing bison in mad retreat

And the panic of smaller things.

Behind them the flames speed onward

O'er level and slope and swale,

And the grass is melted to embers,

Whirled high on the parching gale.

As strong as the ocean's billows,

As fierce as the blizzard's breath,

Is aught in Nature that may withstand

The league-long sweep of this scorching brand

That clutters the plains with death?

Ahead is a waiting darkness,

A shadow athwart the glare,

And the wild things have turned them to it,

For they know there is safety there.

The river, at last, the river!

A haven where all may hide.

With toil-spent lungs and with straining feet

They reel from the smoke and the peeling heat

To plunge in its grateful tide.

While the tongue of the hungry demon

Licks out on the naked sand,

And slavers its baffled fury

And sinks, like a dying hand.

Over the lonely prairie

So wan, the white moonrise grows;

From out of the North a chill wind rides

That spins the ash on the black hillsides

And, fading, an ember glows.

The clustered diamonds of midnight

Flash keen in the purple deep,

The hollows and hills are empty;

The desolate prairies sleep.