Classic Poem

The thumpin' sound o' hosses' hoofs, the clack o' runnin' cows,
The song o' loopin' lassos on the swing,
The smell o' cedar fire, an' then to make yer pulses rouse,
Yuh hear some cowboy beller forth an' sing:
" Hot ir'n! Hot ir'n!
Wup! Come on, snap it up!
Hot ir'n! "

Yuh grab the red irons from the fire an' run to where he's downed
A bawlin' calf an' holds him with his loop;
Yuh slap 'em on the hairy hide. The Ma cow bellers round
An' makes a bluff at hookin' where yuh stoop.
" Hot ir'n! Hot ir'n!
Come, burn 'em " Rafter Bell"!
Hey! Bring 'em hot as hell!
Hot ir'n! "

All day the ropers drag the calves from out the millin' herd,
All day there's dust an' stink o' singein' hair!
The noise kinder makes yer ears buzz like a hummin' bird —
Then raucous-squawkus hollers split the air:
" Hot ir'n! Hot ir'n!
Cain't hold this calf all day!
Come on! Hey, what yuh say?
Hot ir'n! "

It ain't the sweetest kind o' work — calf brandin' on the range —
It's lots o' labor, dirt an' burnt hair smell,
But still I ain't a-hankerin' to see the old ways change,
I kinder like to hear that raspin' yell:
" Hot ir'n! Hot ir'n!
This dogie here I've got
Ull git up like as not!
Hey, cowboy! Bring 'em HOT!