Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FAREWELL TO IDAHO, by H. F. JOHNSON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FAREWELL TO IDAHO, by                    
First Line: Come all ye heroes of the land
Last Line: And see the country through.
Subject(s): Idaho; Pioneers; Time


Come all ye heroes of the land,
We'll sing of Western life,
Ye pioneers who led the van
Through danger, toil and strife;
Who planted freedom's starry flag,
In spite of savage foe,
Upon the rugged mountain peaks
And plains of Idaho.

You saw the land in days of yore,
When savage foes were 'round:
You heard, through valley, cove and dell,
The warwhoop's dismal sound:
You've scaled her lofty mountain peaks,
You've crossed the torrents arch,
You've met the grizzly in his path,
The warrior on the march.

The wild deer bounded from his lair,
And sped across the land:
The elk, that noblest beast of chase,
Were seen on every hand:
The cougar's savage growl was heard.
The gray wolf's dismal howl,
The coyote's yelping on the plain,
Made music for us all.

The scene has changed: alas, no more
The wild deer scuds the plain,
The lordly elk, a sylvan god,
With us but few remain;
Our savage foeman, once so strong,
Is feeble now at best,
His star of empire, once so grand,
Is setting in the West.

We will see no more the trapper's day,
The hunter's fame is gone,
The game and fur have passed away,
No more can they return:
But in their stead domestic life
Is teeming on the hills,
The lowing herds and tinkling bells,
The air with music fills.

The civilizing magic wand
Has touched the primal plain:
Where roamed the savage beasts of prey
Now waves the golden grain;
Where stood the dusky warrior's lodge
The school house proudly stands,
Where rose the savage warrior's cry
The songs of peace ascend.

Where, in the mountain's solitude,
Was heard but nature's song,
The miner's pick and anvil's-ring
The chorus still prolong;
The mountains yield their precious store
To beautify the land;
While labor, toil and enterprise
Is seen on every hand.

While some have reached the golden shore,
And dwell in fairy land,
Some struggle on with hope's bright star
Still shining in the van;
While some beneath the churchyard sleep,
Some rest in unknown graves,
Some met the storm king on the deep,
And sleep beneath the waves.

To those who reached the golden shore
By the just and honest way,
May peace and plenty crown their board,
Till life shall pass away;
To those who struggle with on in hope
We give a hearty cheer;
To those who sleep in unknown graves
We drop a friendly tear.

And now farewell to Idaho,
Her clear and sparkling streams,
Her mountains robed in purest snow,
Her valleys clothed in green;
'Tis fate's decree that I must go.
And to my fate I yield;
I'll call and see you all again
When fortune turns the wheel . . .

That is the way I used to sing,
But now I've changed my tune,
My talk of leaving Idaho
Was a little bit too soon:
Dame Fortune smiled, and I've struck it rich,
And the best thing I can do
Is change my mind, and settle down,
And see the country through.







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