Oh, slow up, dogies, quit your roving round,
You have wandered and tramped all over the ground;
Oh, graze along, dogies, and feed kinda slow,
And don’t forever be on the go,—
Oh, move slow, dogies, move slow.
I have circle-herded, trail-herded, night-herded, and cross-herded, too,
But to keep you together that’s what I can’t do;
My horse is leg-weary and I’m awful tired,
But if you get away I’m sure to get fired,—
Bunch up, little dogies, bunch up.
Oh, say, little dogies, when are you goin’ to lay down
And quit this forever siftin’ around?
My limbs are weary, my seat is sore;
Oh, lay down, dogies, like you’ve laid before,—
Lay down, little dogies, lay down.
Oh, lay still, dogies, since you have laid down,
Stretch away out on the big open ground;
Snore loud, little dogies, and drown the wild sound
That will all go away when the day rolls round,—
Lay still, little dogies, lay still.
from Jack Thorp’s 1921 Songs of the Cowboys