Out from the ranch on a Saturday night,
Ridin’ a hawse that’s a shootin’ star,
Close on the flanks of the flyin’ daylight,
Racin’ with dark for the J L Bar.
Fox-trot and canter will do for the day;
It’s a gallop, my love, when I’m ridin’ your way.
Up the arroyo the trippin’ hoofs beat,
Flingin’ the hinderin’ gravel wide;
Now your light glimmers across the mesquite,
Glimpsed from the top of a rocky divide;
Down through a draw where the shadows are gray
I’m comin’, my darlin’, I’m ridin’ your way.
West, where the sky is a-blushin’ afar,
Matchin’ your cheeks as the daylight dies,
West, where the shine of a glitterin’ star
Hints of the light I will find in your eyes,
Night-birds are passin’ the signal to say:
“He’s comin’, my lady, he’s ridin’ your way.”
Hoof-beats are measurin’ seconds so fast,
Clickin’ them off with an easy rhyme;
Minutes will grow into months at the last,
Mebbe to bring us a marryin’ time.
Life would be singin’ and work would be play
If every night I was ridin’ your way.
Saturday Night by Charles Badger Clark (1883–1957); excerpted from Sun and Saddle Leather, published in 1922.