The Charlie Russell Range

On a Charlie Russell range under royal Montana skies, Pale Shoshones and bison bones bring tears to old squaw’s eyes. A purple wash of prairie sun slides slow beneath the rim— A crown of gold and purest while brings awe to horse and men. God’s claret brush and russet rain breathes life into sunset— Cast stark in brass and iron and bronze without but one regret. They silhouette Indians like Remingtons on the hill— Their art will last for centuries while mere man never will. So hold them high in the sky and let no man call it strange— Art is sweet insanity beneath a Charlie Russell range.