Joaquin Miller

  • We have worked our claims,
  • We have spent our gold,
  • Our barks are astrand on the bars;
  • We are battered and old,
  • Yet at night we behold,
  • Outcroppings of gold in the stars.

    • Chorus—
    • Tho' battered and old,
    • Our hearts are bold,
    • Yet oft do we repine;
    • For the days of old,
    • For the days of gold,
    • For the days of forty-nine.

  • Where the rabbits play,
  • Where the quail all day
  • Pipe on the chaparral hill;
  • A few more days,
  • And the last of us lays
  • His pick aside and all is still.

    • Chorus—

  • We are wreck and stray,
  • We are cast away,
  • Poor battered old hulks and spars;
  • But we hope and pray,
  • On the judgment day,
  • We shall strike it up in the stars.

    • Chorus—