The corral’s not quite as crowded now, the chores a little lighter.
And the closer I get to the barn, my throat’s a little tighter.
I thank the Lord I no longer hear the muffled, painful groan,
And I’m glad he gave me courage, to show mercy for the roan.
I never thought I’d live to see the day I’d put you down.
You were only five years old, some less than I’ve been around.
But the cancer had swept through you, like a blizzard on the plain,
And I’m grateful to the Lord that you no longer feel the pain.
We never led a saber charge, nor galloped through the guns,
But many’s the time we climbed the hill to watch the setting sun.
Or just rode out through the country, to visit pubs and friends.
I’d sit straight and proud, and they’d say out loud, how beautiful you were then.
You were a trusted, loyal mount, a Trooper’s horse, indeed,
And the blue colt bucking ‘cross the field was born of your proud seed.
So as he grows to size and learns, a Trooper’s horse to be,
I’ll love him, train him, be good to him, like you were good to me.
You know Heaven’s full of horses, in the army of the Lord,
And he knows as good as I do, that you’re one to cross the ford.
There’s little doubt he’d want you, for the way you stood each test.
When you pass, you join God’s Cavalry. Heaven only wants the best.
But just this once, I’d ask the Lord,
Call not my horse to Thee.
When I die, I hope to find the roan,
At Fiddler’s Green, waiting for me.
Mark A. Keith – M Co, 2d Cavalry 1972-74