The Finest Words:

Rolled under a young buckskin's side he had started to train;
Slipped under his side in the mud and the September rain;

And she'd sing: "Rowls that ring like bells in the night;
Silver spurs flashing in the Utah moonlight;
Hoofbeats that echo out over the hills;
Songs and stars and a memory that thrills
My heart, my heart, my heart,
Like the ring of his spurs...

The last words that he whispered to me as I knelt by his side;
'You know Jack, I'd give anything just to see my boy ride;'
These were your father's, you've earned them, and now son they're yours;
As he took from his heels and handed me these silver spurs.

The finest words in the English language are, I am convinced: "You've earned it."

If you've another suggestion, post it below. Yet beware: What can match it? Here is a recognition that what you have is won by right, given by men of equal standing. We are Americans, after all: this admission is granted freely, by free men. What matches it?

No comments: