HOME ON THE RANGE - Original 1873 Lyrics & Chorus - Tom Roush
This and other songs of
19th century America are available on my CD - 'SILVER
THREADS AMONG THE
GOLD' available at:
http://tomroush.us/ or iTunes at: https://itunes.apple.com/us/
album/silver-threads-among-the-gold/id940257648 "
Home On the
Range" was adopted as the
Kansas State song in
1947. It, however, uses a later version than the original. This version, that I recorded of six verses, uses the original lyrics and chorus that
Brewster Higley wrote in his 1873 poem 'My
Western Home.' Very few people today have ever heard the original lyrics and chorus as it was written. These lyrics are not ones that you'll hear sitting around a campfire today. Many of the pictures in this video were taken around the time that this song was written. You will see proud people standing in front of their sod houses. 'Home On the Range' is the
Kansas state song. ATTENTION NITPICKERS: It is known that there are no true antelope in
North America. However, the Pronghorn has been called an antelope since the first
Europeans arrived. These are the animals that are referred to as antelope in the lyrics.As with all of my videos, I played all of the instruments and sang all vocals. NOW AVAILABLE ON iTunes at: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/silver-threads-among-the-gold/id940257648
Oh, give me a home where the
Buffalo roam
Where the
Deer and the
Antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the sky is not cloudy all day.
Chorus
A home! A home!
Where the Deer and the Antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the sky is not clouded all day.
Oh! give me a land where the bright diamond sand
Throws its light from the glittering streams,
Where glideth along the graceful white swan,
Like the maid in her heavenly dreams.
Oh! give me a gale of the
Solomon vale,
Where the life streams with buoyancy flow;
On the banks of the
Beaver, where seldom if ever,
Any poisonous herbage doth grow.
How often at night, when the heavens were bright,
With the light of the twinkling stars
Have I stood here amazed, and asked as I gazed,
If their glory exceed that of ours.
I love the wild flowers in this bright land of ours,
I love the wild curlew's shrill scream;
The bluffs and white rocks, and antelope flocks
That graze on the mountains so green.
The air is so pure and the breezes so fine,
The zephyrs so balmy and light,
That I would not exchange my home here to range
Forever in azures so bright.