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Oh, time, rushing fast to your ultimate goal,
Won't you pause, won't you wait and for once, backward roll? Roll back many years, eighty-four years today; And watch a long emigrant train wind its way O'er valleys and hills, o'er gray sage brush lain, All braving the frontier a home to obtain. Not a house, not a fence, scarce a tree to be seen, The people look haggard, the oxen look lean Yet in each weary face beams a resolute eye And their souls cry aloud, "We'll win or die!" |
They got out a fiddle and someone to play.
The whole population was happy and gay. They danced all the night from darkness 'til dawn. There was not one among them that thought it was wrong. The old folks and parents, the young men and girls, In their best Sunday breeches, their homespun and curls, All joined in the frolic--- all cares thrown away For they work when they work and they play when they play. And I'm sure our parents, in their own simple way, Enjoyed themselves better than we do today. |
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This band of brave people had heeded a call
From their great Prophet leader and come one and all To settle the valleys and build up a home In a land where but coyotes and Indians roam. The weather is cold and the ground white with snow, But brave and undaunted still forward they go; Strong men and brave women and many a child Come bravely to conquer this land rough and wild, Though hungry and sick from exposure and cold. Their spirits are strong, both the young and the old. |
But all was not peace and all was not joy
For often the Indians came to annoy. They drove off the cattle and plundered the town, And many a settler has helped run them down, And many a woman has sat with a gun At the door of her cabin and watched 'til the sun Came up o'er the mountains at break of the day, And watched the brave men drive the Indians away. I tell you, dear friends, pioneer women were fine And brave and courageous were your grandma and mine. |
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The journey was slow o'er the wild trackless plain,
And often the Indians molested the train Of oxen and wagons, and stole some away, Delaying their progress for many a day. Their rations were scarce; their clothes worn and old; And some of them perished from hunger and cold; And many a crude grave was left by the way, Not even a marker to show where they lay; And sad hearted mothers breathed heartrending prayers, "Oh God, keep these graves from the wolves and the bears!" |
And then every Sunday, the Lord's holy day,
Their horses and wagons and tools quiet lay. The children were clothed in their one Sunday best For to all these good people, the Sabbath meant rest. Though weary and tired, yet each Sabbath day, They went to their meetings to sing and to pray, To tell one another "The Lord has been good," And to thank Him for loved ones, for shelter and food, For through all their trials, no matter how mean To these Utah pioneers, the Church was supreme. |
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So westward, still westward they wended their way
Over rivers and mountains, 'til one summer day Looking out from his wagin, a light on his face, Their sick Prophet leader cried, "This is the place!" There spreading below them, a valley so wide--- The Great Salt Lake sparkling on yon farther side. "Lo, here we will settle and build up a state; In the tops of the mountains we'll grow strong and great." So they planted our flag on the unbroken sod; Then kneeling, they lifted their thanks unto God. |
Oh, dear Utah pioneers, you've all passed away,
And in yonder churchyard your bodies now lay. But the children still honor the name that you gave And honor your memory so noble and brave. I'm glad you had courage and vision to see What your suffering and trials must now mean to me And to all the descendants of that noble band, Who conquered the desert and watered the land. July twenty-fourth, 'Forty-seven the year, You founded this place that we all love so dear. |
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They started to work with a strong, fervent will;
They cut down timber, they built a sawmill, The old 'dobe fort and the little log school Where your dad and mine learned the dear "Golden Rule." They plowed up the brush and planted the corn. They dug many ditches to water the farm. They laid out the town and planted shade trees; And every one there was as busy as bees. And when in the evening their work was all done They met in the school house and joined in the fun. |
Your much beloved faces are no longer seen,
But your children will still keep your memory green. On each natal day as the years hurry past, We will honor you more than we did on the last. For you left us a heritage that will endure; You left us a faith that is strong and secure; And you left us a home in the heart of the hills With its wide spreading fields and its pure crystal rills; And the pioneers' children, wherever they roam, Will love and remember dear Utah, our home. |
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