The Road to Gundagai

The mountain road goes up and down,

From Gundagai to Tumut Town.

And branching off there runs a track,

Across the foothills grim and black,

Across the plains and ranges grey

To Sydney city far away.

It came by chance one day that I

From Tumut rode to Gundagai.

And reached about the evening tide

The crossing where the roads divide;

And, waiting at the crossing place,

I saw a maiden fair of face,

With eyes of deepest violet blue,

And cheeks to match the rose in hue —

The fairest maids Australia knows

Are bred among the mountain snows.

Then, fearing I might go astray,

I asked if she could show the way.

Her voice might well a man bewitch —

Its tones so supple, deep, and rich.

‘ The tracks are clear,’ she made reply,

‘ And this goes down to Sydney town,

And that one goes to Gundagai.’

Then slowly, looking coyly back,

She went along the Sydney track.

And I for one was well content

To go the road the lady went;

But round the turn a swain she met —

The kiss she gave him haunts me yet!

I turned and travelled with a sigh

The lonely road to Gundagai.