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The Transcontinental Railroad

They started in the East layin' down the rails

And out in California, they were blazing out a trail

Toward the center they did strive

No one knew when they would arrive

Building 'The Transcontinental Railroad'

They cleared the way and blasted through the mountain side

And built big trestle bridges stretching over valleys wide.

And it's a fact they laid more than three-thousand miles of track

To build 'The Transcontinental Railroad'

It took six years, and in the Spring of 1869.

In Promontory Utah they connected the two lines.

And across this growing nation

Folks joined in the celebration

Of 'The Transcontinental Railroad'

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I Am The Blood Left Standing ~Marge Tindal~ © 1999 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hear the voice of the Cherokee crying out in the night. I hear the voice of the lone wolf answer. Is this also my plight?

On the horizon of many moons, I see the legends and hear them speak. I cry the tears of the Cherokee, they run freely down my cheek.

You cannot take back what you have lost... or what has been taken from you. You can only ask the spirits to somehow see you through.

For it is written in Cherokee blood spilled upon the land... I am the blood left standing. I hold the future in my hand.

I will not crawl or grovel meekly this time. But I will not be denied... that which is mine.

My forefather's left the spirits to guide me to this place...

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perhaps to prove to you I am also part of this human race.

So look me in the eye, meet my gaze forthright. I am declaring my heritage, my birth and my right.

'Finder's keepers'. 'Loser's weepers'. I don't subscribe to this rhyme. Return to me what you took. Return what is rightfully mine.

I will not speak with tongue that is forked. I know what I must do. You do not 'give' me anything... I have earned my due.

Don't stand on your throne of empowerment and claim how generous you've been. The spirit guardian of the history books know where you have sinned.

Unless you have the blood of the Cherokee coursing through your veins, do not pass judgement on me, do not with cursed accusations speak my name.

I am the love that lay in the hearts of all Cherokee who walked the trail. I am the love of the Cherokee when I hear their spirits wail.

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Take what you will, but remember, I am protected like you. And all the spirits of the Cherokee... speak with your God too.

God of the earth. God of the sky. God of the sun and the rain. All the God's of the Cherokee... know my name.

I have summoned the spirits to take mercy on your soul. The spirits have spoken... the story is told.

Hiawatha's Sailing

by Henry W. Longfellow

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree!

Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree!

Growing by the rushing river,

Tall and stately in the valley!

I a light canoe will build me,

Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing,

That shall float upon the river,

Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,

Like a yellow water-lily!

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"Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-tree!

Lay aside your white-skin wrapper,

For the Summer-time is coming,

And the sun is warm in heaven,

And you need no white-skin wrapper!"

Travel

By Edna St. Vincent Millay

The railroad track is miles away,

And the day is loud with voices speaking,

Yet there isn't a train goes by all day

But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn't a train goes by,

Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,

But I see its cinders red on the sky,

And hear its engine steaming.

My heart is warm with the friends I make,

And better friends I'll not be knowing;

Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,

No matter where it's going.

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The Oregon Trail by R. Steven Reynolds

Long trains of wagons moving west Down from the high snowy peaks Families each on their own quest Stress of weeks staining their cheeks Sol blazing over the arid scrubland Dust splashing at each movement Bones and wagons across the sand Creaking westward to resettlement A hazy purple and orange skyline Reflecting in hopeful eyes of all Longing for that tall Oregon pine That makes a man feel so small For now jackrabbits and snakes Only watch these migrant trains Leaving behind only dusty wakes Hoping the gains are worth the pains My ancestors traversed that trail They survived their westerly quest And now I pen this their happy tale Long trains of wagons moving west

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The Pioneers

by: Charles Mackay (1814-1889)

Rouse! brothers, rouse! we've far to travel,

Free as the winds we love to roam,

Far through the prairie, far through the forest,

Over the mountains we'll find a home.

We cannot breathe in crowded cities,

We're strangers to the ways of trade;

We long to feel the grass beneath us,

And ply the hatchet and the spade.

Meadows and hills and ancient woodlands

Offer us pasture, fruit, and corn;

Needing our presence, courting our labor;--

Why should we linger like me forlorn?

We love to hear the ringing rifle,

The smiting axe, the falling tree;--

And though our life be rough and lonely,

If it be honest, what care we?

Fair elbow-room for men to thrive in!

Wide elbow-room for work or play!

If cities follow, tracing our footsteps,

Ever to westward shall point the way!

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Rude though our life, it suits our spirit,

And newborn States in future years

Shall own us founders of a nation--

And bless the hardy pioneers.

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

By Walt Whitman

1819-1892

Come my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols? have you your sharp-edged axes? Pioneers! O pioneers! For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers! O pioneers! O you youths, Western youths, So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship, Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost, Pioneers! O pioneers! Have the elder races halted? Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas? We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson, Pioneers! O pioneers! All the past we leave behind,

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We debouch upon a newer mightier world, varied world, Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, Pioneers! O pioneers! We detachments steady throwing, Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep, Conquering, holding, daring, venturing as we go the unknown ways, Pioneers! O pioneers! We primeval forests felling, We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within, We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving, Pioneers! O pioneers! Colorado men are we, From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus, From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come, Pioneers! O pioneers! From Nebraska, from Arkansas, Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental blood intervein'd, All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern, Pioneers! O pioneers! O resistless restless race! O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all! O I mourn and yet exult, I am rapt with love for all, Pioneers! O pioneers! Raise the mighty mother mistress, Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress, (bend your heads all,)

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Raise the fang'd and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon'd mistress, Pioneers! O pioneers! See my children, resolute children, By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter, Ages back in ghostly millions frowning there behind us urging, Pioneers! O pioneers! On and on the compact ranks, With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill'd, Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping, Pioneers! O pioneers! O to die advancing on! Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come? Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill'd. Pioneers! O pioneers! All the pulses of the world, Falling in they beat for us, with the Western movement beat, Holding single or together, steady moving to the front, all for us, Pioneers! O pioneers! Life's involv'd and varied pageants, All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work, All the seamen and the landsmen, all the masters with their slaves, Pioneers! O pioneers! All the hapless silent lovers, All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked, All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying, Pioneers! O pioneers!

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I too with my soul and body, We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way, Through these shores amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing, Pioneers! O pioneers! Lo, the darting bowling orb! Lo, the brother orbs around, all the clustering suns and planets, All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams, Pioneers! O pioneers! These are of us, they are with us, All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind, We to-day's procession heading, we the route for travel clearing, Pioneers! O pioneers! O you daughters of the West! O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives! Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united, Pioneers! O pioneers! Minstrels latent on the prairies! (Shrouded bards of other lands, you may rest, you have done your work,) Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us, Pioneers! O pioneers! Not for delectations sweet, Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious, Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment, Pioneers! O pioneers! Do the feasters gluttonous feast? Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock'd and bolted doors? Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground,

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Pioneers! O pioneers! Has the night descended? Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged nodding on our way? Yet a passing hour I yield you in your tracks to pause oblivious, Pioneers! O pioneers! Till with sound of trumpet, Far, far off the daybreak call--hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind, Swift! to the head of the army!--swift! spring to your places, Pioneers! O pioneers!