I ride the range each lonely day,
And watch the whirlwind dance and play.
In carefree mood it spins along,
And seems to sing a whispered song.

Although elusive in its flight,
I'm captured by this fickle sprite.
It skips and swirls and scurries on,
To leave me sad when it is gone.

Then work is done and off I go,
To town to watch a different show.
While dining in a cabaret,
Another whirlwind comes to play.

Such grace and beauty as she spins.
Such ease with which my heart she wins.
Each evening, then she sees me there,
Enchanted, with adoring stare.

Then once she even danced my way,
While whirling through her fleet ballet.
Although she didn't chance to speak,
She leaned and kissed me on the cheek.

And then one night she wasn't there.
Her show had moved, I knew not where.
That lonely feeling came once more.
I slowly wandered out the door.

Then all at once I seemed to know,
With heavy heart I'd have to go
Back on the range where I belong,
And listen to the whirlwind's song.

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