Now O Lord please lend thine ear,
The prayer of the Cattleman to hear;
No doubt many prayers to thee seem strange,
But won't you bless this cattle range?
Bless the round-up year by
And don't forget the growing steer;
Water the land with brooks and
For my cattle that roam a thousand hills.
Now,
O Lord, won't you be
And give our livestock plenty of food;
And to avert a winter's
Give Italian skies and little snow.
Prairie fires won't you please stop,
Let thunder roll and water drop,
It frightens me to see the smoke,
Unless it's stopped,
I'll go dead broke.
As you,
O Lord, our herds behold—Which represents a sack of gold—I think at least five cents per
Should be the price of beef year round.
One more thing and then I'm through,
Instead of one calf, give my cows two.
I may pray different than some others, but thenI've had my say, and now amen.
Author--unknown, circa 1890
