New Spring

Oh, the springs run to the rivers And the redbuds paint the banks, As the dogwoods burst to bloomin’ And the cowboys all give thanks. They’ll be dustin’ off their saddles, Checkin’ cinches and their string, When that range all starts to greenin’ And they know that it’s new spring. That black coffee now tastes better, Boiled out on the open flames As they round up their remudas And give horses their new names. Their boots are all clean and shiny And the tack is soaped and fixed— They even done their spring bathin’ In the pond and in the cricks. Them cowboys and cows are anxious For what a season will bring, As they gather and head on out In God’s glory of new spring.