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Rhoda Cosgrave Sivell was born in Ireland in 1874. She lived in Canada and published a collection of poems, Voices from the Range, first printed in 1911, and subsequently in other editions. In some editions, the book's illustrations include pieces by Frederic Remington and Charles M. Russell.

Rhoda Sivell was married to a rancher in the Medicine Hat area.

In Cowgirl Poetry (Gibbs Smith, 2001), edited by poet Virginia Bennett, some early female poets were anthologized for the first time in a cowboy poetry collection, including Rhoda Sivell.  See links to other publications and recordings that include her work, below.

Rhoda Sivell died in 1962.

The Esplanade Archives in Medicine Hat, Alberta, has digitized a recording of Rhoda Sivell speaking that you can listen to on line here. The archives also holds information relating to Rhoda Sivell.

Rhoda Sivell's Voices from the Range was covered by Canadian copyright law until 2012. Canadian copyright law grants copyright protection for 50 years past an author's death (in the U.S., books published before 1923 are in the public domain). Rhoda Sivell's grandson and current copyright holder William Sivell has granted permission for the poems below to be posted. In 2010, William Sivell, who has republished the latest edition of Voices from the Range under the title of Pioneer Poetry and Prose, told us that he plans a web site and the re-publication of Voices from the Range. Thanks to poet and reciter Susan Parker for information and to poet and songwriter Almeda Terry for putting us in touch with William Sivell.


photo courtesy of William Sivell
Rhoda Sivell and her granddaughter, Grace

Below:

 

Poems

Voices from the Range and Pioneer Poetry and Prose and other publications

Links and more

 

 


"A Running Bucker" by Frederic Remington
from Voices from the Range

book © William Sivell; used with permission
 


 

Poems

 

Come with Me to the Old Range 
Come with me to the old range...

The Old Saskatchewan 
Down where the river is winding...

The Cow-Girl
Out on the wild range, riding...

Happy Days 
The bells in town are ringing... 

The Motherless Calf 
Only a day!  You poor little calf... 

The Broncho Buster 
He came up from old Mexico... 

Our Last Ride 
We drifted out West together... 

Voices from The Range 
There's an old ranch by the river... 

The Range Call
I'm lonely to-night for the old range...

They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night 
When you think you have forgotten...

Medicine Hat (Sunny Alberta)
There's a blot on the map in the Northland...

 

 

The Old Saskatchewan 

Down where the river is winding
   Its deep and lonely way,
By coulee and cut-bank surrounding,
   The dark Saskatchewan lay.

And far below in the distance,
   Where the river flats look still,
And the smoke of an Indian teepee
   Rises up from a far-off hill

I hear the cry of the wild geese
   As they fly to their evening rest
Of the sand-bars of the river
   In the wild and the golden West.

And out by the far-off coulees,
   Where the evening shadows lie
In the depth of their lonely grandeur,
   I hear the lone wolf's cry.

And the coyotes call from the distant range,
   Out where the range stock roam,
And the cowboy whoops as he spurs his horse
   Down to the old ranch home.

Down by the Old Saskatchewan
   It's lonely, and wild, and free,
And the old rough range by the river-side
   Looks best in the world to me.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission

    

 

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

Come with Me to the Old Range 

Come with me to the old range
   Just for an hour or so;
You'll hear the call of the range stock
   And the voices of the Chinook blow.
Blowing down o'er the windswept hills
   Where the pups of the grey wolf play
And their dens lie deep in the hidden steep
   Of the cut-banks far away.

You'll hear the song of the bluebird
   As she swings on the willow tree,
And the note of the wild dove cooing;
   See the range that looks good to me;
Hear the wild young range horse neighing,
   The music of unshod feet,
And the sun o'er the range hills setting—
   The things that make life complete.

You will smell the wild clematis,
   As it falls in a cloud of white,
Sending its glorious fragrance
   Far out into the prairie night;
See the moon shining over the river,
   Hear the call of the coyote shrill,
And the long, deep bay of the lone wolf
   Coming down from a far-off hill.

You will see Dick the broncho buster,
   The rider who doesn't blow;
You will hear of the cold, hard winter,
   The crust on the frozen snow;
Of the outlaw hunted by redcoats
   When he hid in the old range hills;
Of the mist that hangs over the river;
   Of the soft rain that never chills.

Then come with me to the old range
   Just for an hour or so;
I'll show the sweetest things on earth
   Out where the Chinooks blow

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912.
© William Sivell; used with permission

 

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

The Cow-Girl

Out on the wild range, riding
     To the music of drifting feet;
As we lope o’er the sunburned prairie,
     I and the cow-girl meet.

The sun in the West is setting.
     And shoots out its golden beams;
One falls on the face of the rider,
     The cow-girl of my dreams

She’s as lithe as the supple willows
     That grow by the bed of the streams;
Her hair like the golden sunbeam
     That falls on the girl of my dreams.

Her eyes are as dark as the shadows
    That creep down the canyon wide;
With a look like a half-broke broncho,
    Half fearful, yet trusting beside.

Her face like the roses in summer
    That grow in the coulees deep;
Her lips like the scarlet sand-flower
     That blossoms in cut-banks steep.

She’s as fair as a summer morning;
     As pure as the prairie air;
She’s as wild as the silver sage brush
     That grows by the grey wolf’s lair.

The sky in the West has darkened
     As home to the camp we ride,
As I lope o’er the shadowed prairie
     With the cow-girl by my side.

We laugh and we talk together,
      To the music of drifting feet.
As we lope o’er the sunburned prairie,
      Where I and the cow-girl meet.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission


illustration from Voices from the Range
book © William Sivell; used with permission

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

Happy Days

The bells in town are ringing,
   'Tis Christmas time, we know;
But not a sound of the bells we hear
   Out across the shifting snow.
Across the wind-swept prairie,
   Where the wild chinook winds blow.

'Tis Christmas night, and we're far away
   From all we love and know,
But faces are bright, and hearts are light;
   Outside is the drifting snow.
And we talk, and laugh, and sing with joy,
   Out where the chinooks blow.

It's Christmas night, and they drink a toast
   To the loved one, far away;
One to the boys from the sunny South,
   And one for the old range ways;
But the one we all love best of all
   When they call out "Happy Days."

'Tis Christmas night on the old wild range,
   And the Northern Lights aglow,
Dance o'er the grim grey cut-banks,
   And down on the drifting snow.
And the coyote sneaks by the frozen creeks,
   And the wolf calls long and low,
But the toast on the range is "Happy Days,"
   Far out where the riders go.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission

 

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

The Motherless Calf 

Only a day! You poor little calf,
   With the brown and glossy head!
Only a day on the old rough ranch,
   And your dear old mother dead.

We put you up close beside her,
   And though she was weak and sick,
She lifted her head to her little one,
   And gave you a loving lick.

We put you away in the old cow's stall;
   And we made you warm and dry;
We gave you milk of the best to drink,
   But we could not stop your cry.

The little motherless heifer,
   Out in the old rough shed,
Is the pick of the bunch with my pard and I
   Because her mother is dead.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission

 

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

The Broncho Buster

He came up from old Mexico.
   I couldn't rightly say
What was his nationality,
   But I'll tell the tale this way:
I think he was half Spaniard;
   And he spoke the language swell;
Black was his hair and curly,
   And black were his eyes as well.

His face was tanned by Southern suns;
   His features fine and neat;
His build was strong and supple

   You bet he looked a treat!
But what's a man to look at
   If he's only there for show?
A man must do a few things well,
   And then he must not blow.

And Dick could handle horses well,
   He hadn't any fear;
And that's the only kind of  man
   A range horse will let near.
For I've seen them strike at others,
   Because they were afraid.
A horse can size a man up fast,
   And show you how he's made.

I've seen Dick throw and tie them down,
   And cinch the saddle tight
In three short minutes -- all the time
   The horse was on the fight --
And then he'd slip the rope off,
   The horse was free to go;
But Dick was in the saddle --
   With the horse a-rearing so.

And he'd ride him to the finish,
   Though he'd buck, and twist, and squeal,
And plunge around in circles,
   Just enough to make you reel.
But Dick was in the saddle,
   And he sure was there to stay,
And you'd hear him laughing all the time
   In a wild and reckless way.

I've seen him busting three or four,
   Inside two hours or so

Range horses that had never had
   A saddle on, I know.
And never have I seen him piled.
   I'd hate to see the day,
That Dick lay piled upon the ground,
   And let his horse away.

For I've got a great respect for Dick,
   Just like the horses hard.
It only takes a coward round
   To make a horse real bad.
They've got to show their feelings;
   It's only right and true,
That a horse won't have a coward round
   To show him what to do.

And he was gentle with them'
   They'd get to like him so,
They'd follow him around
   The old corrals, you know.
He'd talk so softly to them,
   And look down into their eyes;
Call them his own honies,
   And they didn't seem surprised.

We'll take our hats off to him, boys,
   For he's the only kind
Range horses have respect for

   Just surely bound to mind.
That kind is gentle with them;
   And they keep their temper so;
They haven't got a bit of fear,
   And you never hear them blow.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission


illustration from Voices from the Range
book © William Sivell; used with permission
 

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

Our Last Ride 

We drifted out West together,
   In the light of the dying day;
The town faded far behind us,
   Bath'd in its gas-light ray.
The smell of the rain-swept prairie
   Blew up to us strong and sweet,
And all the music we needed
   Was the ring of the unshod feet.

We thought of the days that were over,
   We thought of the days that would be,
We thought of the present in silence,
   When you said good-bye to me.
I see you face in the shadows,
   Just as I did that night,
Though it's years since we drifted together
   Out in that fading light.

The smell of the silver sage brush,
   The moan of the Western wind
As it blew around our faces,
   It all comes back to my mind.
We said good-bye and we parted

   And your trail new-cut and strange

Drifting apart to meet no more

   Our last old ride on the range.

Yet I never see a sunset,
   But that ride comes back to me.
In the wave of the silver sage brush
   Once more your face I see.
The South wind calls me to you,
   So warm, and strong, and sweet,
And your voice is till with me, tender and true,
   In the music of unshod feet.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

Voices from The Range 

There's an old ranch by the river,
   Out far across the plain,
Where no city dust blows o'er it,
   By cut-banks washed by rain;
By the big bend of the river,
   Where the soft winds whisper low,
And the doves coo in the poplar trees,
   And the wild clematis grow.

The meadow larks they sing at dawn,
   As the river ripples by,
And out beyond the cut-banks
   You can hear the range stock cry;
And the neighing of the horses;
   Oh, it all sounds sweet to me,
On the old ranch by the river,
   Oh, it's there that I would be.

Then the wolf hunts o'er the prairie;
   And when all the boys drift in,
We all play cards together—
   In town you would call it sin—
Where the stranger is always welcome,
   It's there that I would be,
On the old ranch by the river,
   Where life is sweet and free.

You can have your city life for me;
   And your noisy, dusty town,
Where the gas lights shine all through the day,
   And the men they don't tan brown.
But it's hustle, hustle, hustle,
   And no one there seems free.
But the old range voices call me back,
   It's there that I would be.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission

 


illustration from Voices from the Range
book © William Sivell; used with permission

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

The Range Call

I'm lonely to-night for the old range,
   And the voices I loved to hear;
Though the band in the town is playing,
   The music comes soft to my ear.
There's only the river between us,
   The town in the flat shows bright,
But I'm lonely, lonely, lonely,
   For my old range home to-night.

I'm lonely to-night for the old friends;
   For new friends can never be
Just what those dear old range friends
   Have been in the past to me.
But I hear their voices calling,
   And the band has ceased to play,
And my heart has gone out from the gas-lit town
  To the wild range far away.

If you ever the range call,
   The voice that speaks soft and sweet;
That wins you back to the prairie,
   Away from the gas-lit street;
If once you hear her calling,
   You sure than have got to go,
For the old range is waiting for you,
   And you've got to love her so.

Reprinted from Cowgirl Poetry with permission from Gibbs Smith, Publisher.  See our feature on that book here.
© William Sivell; used with permission


"A Rainy Morning in Cow Camp" illustration by Charles M. Russell
from Voices from the Range
book
© William Sivell; used with permission

SEPARATOR.gif (1476 bytes)

 

They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night 

     When you think you have forgotten,
       And have lived the feelings down,
And have shoved that best that's in you out of sight;
     You don't trouble in the daytime,
        When you're busy up in town,
But they keep a-stealing on you in the night.

     They keep a-stealing on you
       When the world has gone to rest,
And bring the past before you bright as day;
     You can hear the horses neighing,
       You can hear the riders whoop,
In the valley by the river far away.

     You don't see them in the daytime,
       In the city's noise and din;
But when Night hands her curtain from the sky
     They keep a-stealing on you,
       Those dear, familiar scenes,
And you know you'll not forget them till you die.

     And your top-horse is standing
       With his saddle by the door,
And he whinnies when you're coming into sight;
     'Tis years since last you saw him,
       You don't think of him in town,
But he keeps a-stealing on you in the night.

     And your honey, she is riding
       By the river all alone,
And some way it doesn't seem quite right;
     For you're hustling, hustling, hustling,
       Making money up in town,
But your baby's face it breaks your heart at night.

When you think you have forgotten,
     And have lived the feelings down,
       And have shoved the best that's in you out of sight,
Just get a horse and saddle,
     And drift out from the town,
       To the the thoughts that steal upon you in the night.

by Rhoda Sivell, from Voices from the Range, 1912
© William Sivell; used with permission


Medicine Hat (Sunny Alberta)

There's a blot on the map in the Northland,
     Away on the edge of the world,
I've heard Americans call it,
     Where the smoke of the teepee once curled.
A city enclosed by a river
     Surrounded by hills lit with gold;
She's richer by far than most cities,
     But her riches have never been told.

The Government tried for to break her
     This wild ranching land of the plain;
They handed her thousands of farmers,
     They handed her bushels of grain,
They plowed and they disced and they sweated,
     They struggled, they fought and they tried;
But only two crops did they grow there
     The wind blew as dry as a hide.

The tractors sang songs on her furrows,
     The men grew old with their care;
Not a cent, not a cent for their trouble,
     But the government always was there.
They helped them to seed in the springtime,
     They helped them again in the fall;
But the range was so wild and rebellious
     They couldn't break her at all.

They booster her high to the farmers,
     They boomed her higher in town,
They sent a man called Hatfield
     To make the rain come down.
He set up his towers all around her
     This wild old ranching plain,
And he messed with a can on top of a box
     But he couldn't make it rain.

The farmers paid each a dollar
     For the tower, the box and the can,
And they handed about three thousand
     To that blessed rain-making man;
And never a bushel of grain they got
     After they had to pay,
But it poured and it poured for a week or more
     After he went away.

Their fields are now full of thistles,
     Their fences lie on the ground;
Our men are tired and broken
     And the Government only have found
It was no use of trying to break her
     This wild little plain of the West.
God! couldn't they leave her alone,
     Ranching for her was the best.

I remember her thousands of cattle
     Range over a thousand hills,
And her sweet blessed river shining,
     And her June rain that never chills;
I remember her wild plains stretching
     Hundreds of miles away
With no fences or Russian thistles,
     And miles of blue-joint hay.

God! but she was a country,
    Wonderful to behold;
That's what I'm trying to tell you,
     Her riches have never been told.
Why don't you listen to nature
     She always speaks more true,
Give her what's coming to her
     And you bet she'll stand by you.

What am I trying to tell you
     About this wild plain of the West
And the prairie gas-lit city,
     My home that I love the best,
With her wonderful hills of coal mines
     And her lake of gas as well;
As Kipling sure describes us,
     We're "located on top of hell."

I shut my eyes and try to forget,
     And picture our plain again
With thousand of range stock roaming,
     And the riders back among men;
And the miners strong and splendid
     Shipping our coal away;
And the men of the Southland hearing the call
     And coming here to stay.

And out in the far off coulees
     Where the wolf-dogs used to roam
They'll DRILL FOR OIL AND GET IT
     Down by the old range home.
That's what I'm trying to tell you,
     For I read it in nature true;
Look for yourselves and find it,
     And the God of the Range bless you.

by Rhoda Sivell, 1922
© William Sivell; used with permission


 


1911 Postcard, Ranching view near Medicine Hat, Alberta

Publications

Voices from the Range (multiple editions)
Pioneer Prose and Poetry
Medicine Hat (Sunny Alberta)


 

Voices from the Range and Pioneer Poetry and Prose

 

Voices from the Range, 1911

  

Voices from the Range, by Rhoda Sivell 

Reverse of title page reads, ""Entered according to act of Parliament in the year
Nineteen Hundred and Eleven, by RHODA SIVELL, Medicine Hat, Alta."
 

1911 edition

Contents:

Come with Me to the Old Range 
The Old Saskatchewan 
The Wolf Hunter
The Chinook
My Prairie Flower
Little Joe
Happy Days 
The Outlaw
Turned Loose
The Motherless Calf
The Broncho Buster
Honey
The Hunter's Bride
Listen to the Coyotes
The Wood by the Saskatchewan
The Range Call
Our Last Ride
Alberta's Answer to "The Law of the Yukon"
Roses, Sweet Wild Roses (not in 1912 edition shown below)
Come to Me at Sunset
Nature's Prayer
The Cow-Girl
The Stray (not in 1912 edition shown below)
Only a Kiss
My Lost Love
You're Far Away
Good-Bye
Alone
Voices from The Range
The Hard Winter
The Wolf-Dog
The Rider's Paradise
 

(This copy, in the BAR-D library, has 101 pages; it could be the Third edition as identified by Yost and Renner below, but it has a 1911 copyright date and books they describe as being previous to this edition have 1912 copyright dates.)

William Sivell is seeking copies of the 1911 Voices from the Range. You can contact William Sivell at 250-361-4281; email.
 


Voices from the Range, 1912

Voices from the Range, by Rhoda Sivell 

1912 Edition

Contents:

Come with Me to the Old Range
The Old Saskatchewan
The Wolf Hunter
The Chinook
My Prairie Flower
Little Joe
Happy Days
The Outlaw
Turned Loose
The Motherless Calf
The Broncho Buster
Honey
The Hunter's Bride
Listen to the Coyotes
The Wood by the Saskatchewan
The Range Call
Our Last Ride
Alberta's Answer to "The Law of the Yukon"
Canada, Her Firstborn (not in 1911 edition shown above)
Come to Me at Sunset
Nature's Prayer
The Rider that Never "Made Good" (not in 1911 edition shown above)
The Cow-Girl
They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night (not in 1911 edition shown above)
Only a Kiss
My Lost Love
You're Far Away
Good-Bye
Alone
Voices from The Range
The Hard Winter
The Wolf-Dog
The Rider's Paradise
Calgary, "Queen of the West" (not in 1911 edition shown above)

 

(This book has 102 pages.
See the Yost and Renner descriptions below; this book fits the "Fourth edition" description.)


Voices from the Range, 1912  soft cover


Reverse of title page:

Contents:

Come with Me to the Old Range
Calgary, "Queen of the West"
The Old Saskatchewan
The Wolf Hunter
The Chinook
My Prairie Flower
Little Joe
The Outlaw
Happy Days
Turned Loose
My Ranch Home (not in 1911 or 1912 editions shown above)
The Broncho Buster (Illustrated)
Honey
The Hunter's Bride
Listen to the Coyotes
The Motherless Calf
The Wood by the Saskatchewan
Our Last Ride
The Range Call (Illustrated)
Canada, Her Firstborn (not in 1911 edition shown above)
Alberta's Answer to "The Law of the Yukon"
Nature's Prayer
Come to Me at Sunset
The Rider that Never "Made Good" 
Alone
They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night
The Cow Girl
Only a Kiss
Voices from The Range
The Hard Winter
The Rider's Paradise
The Wolf-Dog
Visions (not in 1911 or 1912 editions shown above)
Every Day (not in 1911 or 1912 editions shown above)
 

This book fits the "second edition" description below.


Voices from the Range date uncertain
 

Voices from the Range, by Rhoda Sivell 

 


Rhoda Sivell's signature, July 27, 1960

 images and contents courtesy of William Sivell

Contents:

Come with Me to the Old Range
Calgary, "Queen of the West"
The Old Saskatchewan
The Wolf Hunter
The Chinook
My Prairie Flower
Little Joe
The Outlaw
Happy Days
Turned Loose
My Ranch Home (not in 1911 or 1912 editions shown above)
The Broncho Buster (Illustrated)
Honey
The Hunter's Bride
Listen to the Coyotes
The Motherless Calf
The Wood by the Saskatchewan
Our Last Ride
The Range Call (Illustrated)
Canada, Her Firstborn (not in 1911 edition shown above)
Alberta's Answer to "The Law of the Yukon"
Nature's Prayer
Come to Me at Sunset
The Rider that Never "Made Good" 
Alone
They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night
The Cow Girl
Only a Kiss
Voices from The Range
The Hard Winter
The Rider's Paradise
The Wolf-Dog
Visions (not in 1911 or 1912 editions shown above)
Every Day (not in 1911 or 1912 editions shown above)
 

William Sivell reports that this book has 88 pages and has the Russell image, "Rainy Day in Cow Camp" on page 49 (see the Yost and Renner descriptions of the editions below; it is possibly their described "Second edition").

William Sivell believes this was a 1960 edition, though there is a 1912 copyright date in the book: "Copyright, 1912, Canada, by RHODA SIVELL." He says that family information suggests the 1960 date and that a bookseller delivered the book with this information, "c. 1960, signed. 4th. variant issue, 1st. published 1911. Peel 3 #3651. Yost & Renner p. 245 #23. 17948 HE." The "c. 1960, signed" might be referring to the signature of Rhoda Sivell, which can be seen above.

The Peel reference is here, from Bruce Peel's A Bibliography of the Prairie Provinces to 1953.

No copyright was filed for a 1960 edition and no copies are listed in libraries, worldwide.

Some editions of Voices from the Range include Russell illustrations (see a comment here in One West, two myths II: essays on comparison, Volume 2 by C. L. Higham and Robert Thacker). The authors point out that the 1911 edition of Voices from the Range includes Frederic Remington's "A Running Bucker" as the frontispiece, illustrating "Broncho Buster," and Russell's watercolor, "A Rainy Day in Cow Camp," illustrating "The Range Call." [The accurate title is "A Rainy Morning in Cow Camp."]

The Yost & Renner refers to Karl Yost and Frederick G. Renner's A Bibliography of the Published Works of Charles M. Russell from University of Nebraska Press, 1971. Here is how they define the editions:

Yost & Renner's descriptions indicate that there were three printings with the Eaton publisher's title page and the 1911 date, and one by the publisher Briggs in 1912. The page counts are:

First edition: 43 pages
Second edition: 88 pages
Third edition: 101 pages
Fourth edition: 102 pages

The volumes we've examined do not agree completely with the Yost & Renner descriptions. We have or have seen:

1911 edition, 101 pages
1912 edition (soft cover) 88 pages
1912 edition, 102 pages

which are all of the editions that have described by booksellers over recent years. The only bibliographic references in WorldCat are to one 1911 edition and two 1912 editions.

There is also the edition above, marked 1912, 88 pages, in the collection of William Sivell. There is no publisher on the title page, but only this notice (image provided by William Sivell):


More Notes on Voices from the Range Editions

As noted above, there is ambiguity about the publication dates for some editions of Voices from the Range. Above, there's information for a 1911 edition and three editions with 1912 copyright dates.

  • There are a number of bookseller offerings for two different 1912 editions; one published by Briggs and another noted as "self-published."

  • A reference here from The Literary History of Alberta: From Writing-on-Stone to World War Two By George Melnyk describes three versions of the book. A footnote reads, "Bruce Peel reports Sivell bought two stallions with the proceeds from the sale of Voices from the Range. See Bruce Peel, A Bibliography of the Prairie Provinces to 1953 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1973) 754. See that reference here.

We welcome additional information. Email us.


Pioneer Poetry and Prose, 2000

2000 Edition

Contents:

Poems, alphabetically:

Alberta's Answer to "The Law of the Yukon"
Alone
The Broncho Buster
Calgary, "Queen of the Golden West"
Canada Her Firstborn
The Chinook
Come to Me at Sunset
Come with Me to the Old Range
The Cow Girl
Every Day
Good-Bye
Happy Days
The Hard Winter
Honey
The Hunter's Bride
Listen to the Coyotes
Little Joe
The Motherless Calf
My Lost Love
My Ranch Home
Nature's Prayer
The Range Call
The Old Saskatchewan
Only a Kiss
Our Last Ride
The Outlaw
My Prairie Flower
The Rider that Never "Made Good"
The Rider's Paradise
They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night
Turned Loose
Visions
Voices from The Range
The Wolf-Dog
The Wolf Hunter
The Wood by the Saskatchewan
You're Far Away 

Prose:

Chapter I A New and Lovely Country
Chapter II, The First Winter on the Prairie
Chapter III The First Train Through the Rockies
Chapter IV  Our French and English Neighbours
Chapter V Recall to the West
Chapter VI Twenty Black Bulls Run Us Off the Place
Chapter VII Antelope Hunt Canceled by Fire
Chapter VIII The Lovely Virgin County
Chapter IX The Terrible Five-Day May Storm
Chapter X Pat Nolan, Great Irish Lawyer
Chapter XI  The Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes


William Sivell, grandson of Rhoda Sivell offers Pioneer Poetry and Prose, which includes most of the poems in the 1911 and 1912 Voices from the Range and others, along with Rhoda Sivell's stories of her life (third edition, pub. 2000 by Raynora Services Ltd., Cochrane, Alberta, soft cover, 100 pp.).

William Sivell writes, "Experience the life and strife of settling an uncaptured land through Rhoda's astute eyes as she presents thirty-five poetic anecdotes. Rhoda's complete autobiography ends this gem of historical Albertan writing."

Order with Canadian funds, cash or money order only, $15 postpaid from William Sivell, 104-1035 Pendergast Street, Victoria, B.C., Canada; 250-361-4281;  vibeachcomber@gmail.com.
 


Medicine Hat (Sunny Alberta)

Medicine Hat (Sunny Alberta), a single poem of three pages, was published in 1922.

You can view the publication here in a PDF file, where it has been archived by the Library and Archives of Canada. The poem is also posted above.

William Sivell is seeking copies of the 1922 Medicine Hat (Sunny Alberta). You can contact William Sivell at 250-361-4281; email.
 

Links and more

 

The Esplanade Archives in Medicine Hat, Alberta, has digitized a recording of Rhoda Sivell speaking that you can listen to on line. You can find it by searching the Audio/Visual archives here for "Rhoda Sivell." The archives also holds information relating to Rhoda Sivell.

William Sivell points out that in Rhoda Sivell's audio interview, she mentions a "forthcoming publication" called Pioneers. He believes the interview was done in 1961 or 1962, and writes, "I must guess that it was possibly written but not published before her death..." Rhoda Sivell died in 1962.


William Sivell, grandson of Rhoda Sivell, shared the following photos in 2010:


photo courtesy of William Sivell
Rhoda Sivell and her granddaughter, Grace

The photos below were taken by William Sivell's father, Charles. William thinks the the first and third photos were taken in the 1960s and that the middle photo was taken in the mid-to-late 1980s. The third photo was taken "...when he canoed out to his and grandma's old homestead..." He comments, "The first photo is a distance shot showing all of their old property, which I believe was within the big bend of the river, probably in the grove of trees. The third one is of what's left of their shack...." 

William Sivell asked us to include a note telling that the property can be viewed on Google Maps. He writes, "To view the former Sivell homestead, enter 'Medicine Hat' in the Google Maps search window, then follow the South Saskatchewan River 22 miles to the west of the city. The former homestead property can be viewed by zooming in to the river bend with the large island just to the east of it."
 


photo courtesy of William Sivell
Old Sivell ranch at Medicine Hat, Alberta, photo by Charles Sivell, Rhoda Sivell's son


photo courtesy of William Sivell
Sivell homestead site, circa mid-1980s, photo by Charles Sivell, Rhoda's son
 


photo courtesy of William Sivell


 

You can contact William Sivell: 104-1035 Pendergast Street, Victoria, B.C., Canada V8V 2W9; 250-361-4281; email.


  In 2010, Almeda Terry Bradshow put the poetry of Rhoda Sivell to music, presented on her CD, Voices from the Range. Find information here and at her web site, www.almedam2bmusic.com.

In September, 2010, Almeda Terry was invited to perform at the Esplanade Archives in Medicine Hat, Alberta, where there was also an exhibit about Rhoda Sivell.


Rhoda Sivell's work was anthologized for the first time in a cowboy poetry collection in Cowgirl Poetry (Gibbs Smith, 2001), edited by poet Virginia Bennett. Cowgirl Poetry includes Rhoda Sivell's "Our Last Ride," "The Range Call," and "They Keep a-Stealing on You in the Night." See our feature on this book here.


cpreunionbk.jpg (25377 bytes) Cowboy Poetry: The Reunion (Gibbs Smith, 2004), also edited by Virginia Bennett, includes Rhoda Sivell's "The Rider that Never Made Good."  See our feature on this book here.


Cowboy Poetry Classics, a recording compiled, produced, and annotated by David Stanley, (Smithsonian Folkways Recordings, 2003) includes "Our Last Ride" recited by Echo Roy, and "They Keep A-Stealing on You in the Night" recited by Doris Daley.


  Rhoda Sivell's The Cow-Girl is included in The Big Roundup, an anthology of classic and contemporary poetry from CowboyPoetry.com (New West Library, 2001).

 


We welcome additional information about Rhoda Sivell.  Email us

 

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