There was movement at the station for the word had passed around that the colt from old regret had got away
And had joined the wild bush horses he was worth a thousand pounds so all the cracks had gathered to the fray
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far had mustered at the homestead overnight
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are and the stock horse snuffs the battle with delight
There was Harrison who made his pile when pardon won the cup and the old man with his hair as white as snow
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up he would go wherever horse or man could go
And Clancy of the overflow came down to lend
a hand no better horseman ever held the reins for never horse could throw him while the saddle
girths would stand and he learned to ride while droving on the plains and one was there a stripling
on a small and weedy beast he was something like a racehorse undersized with a touch of time or pony
three parts thoroughbred at least and such as are by mountain horsemen prized
He was hard and tough and wiry just the sort that won't say die there was courage in his quick impatient tread
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye and the proud and lofty carriage of his head
But still so slight and weedy one would doubt his power to stay and the old man said that horse will never do
For a long and tiring gallop lad you'd better stop away
Those hills are far too rough for such as you
So he waited sad and wistful only Clancy stood his friend oh I think we ought to let him come he said
And I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end for both his horse and he a mountain bred
Oh he hails from snowy river up by Kosciuszko side where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough
Where a horse is who strike by light from the thin stones every stride
And the man that holds his own is good enough
And the snowy river riders on the mountains make their home
Where the river runs those giant hills between
I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam
But no way yet such horsemen have I seen
So he went
They found the horses
By the big mimosa clump
They raced away towards the mountain's brow
And the old man gave his orders
Boys, go at them from the jump
No use to try for fancy riding now
And Clancy, you must wheel them
Try and wheel them to the right
And ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills
For never yet was Ryder
That could keep that mob in sight
If once they'd gained the shelter of those hills
So Clancy rode to wheel them
He was racing on the wing
Where the best and boldest riders take their place
And he raced his stock horse past them
And he made the rangers ring
With his stock whip as he met them face to face
Then they halted for a moment
While he swung the dreaded lash
But they saw their well-beloved mountain full in view
And they charged beneath the stock whip
With a sharp and sudden dash
And off into the mountain scrub they flew
Then past the horsemen followed
Where the gorges deep and black
Resounded to the thunder of their tread
And the stock whips woke the echoes
And they fiercely answered back
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead
And upward ever, upward the wild horses held
Their horses to the ground
Away where Currajong and Mountain Ash grew wide
And the old man muttered fiercely
We may bid them off g'day
No man could hold them down the other side
When they reached the mountain summit
Even Clancy took a pull
It well might make the boldest hold their breath
The wild hop scrub grew thickly
And the hidden ground was full
Of wombat holes and any slip was death
But the old man muttered fiercely
That the man from Snowy River
Let the pony have his head
And he swung his stock whip round
And gave a cheer
And he raised him down the mountain
Like a torrent down its bed
While the others stood and watched in very fear
He sent the flintstones flying
But the pony kept his feet
Oh he cleared the fallen timber in his stride
And the man from Snowy River
Never shifted in his seat
It was grand a sight
To see that mountain horseman ride
Through the stringy barks and saplings
On the rough and broken ground
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went
And he never drew the bridle
Till he landed safe and sound
At the bottom of the terrible descent
He was right among the horses
As they climbed the farther hill
And the watchers on the mountain standing mute
Saw him climb the hill and the watchers on the mountain standing mute

And he was right among them still
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit
Then they lost him for a moment
Where two mountain gullies met
In the rangers' oh-but-a-final glimpse reveals
On a *** and distant hillside
The wild horses racing yet
With the man from Snowy River at their heels
And he ran them single-handed
Till their sides were white with foam
Followed like a bloodhound on their track
Till they halted cowed and beaten
Then he turned their heads for home
And a lone ant and a sister brought them back
But his hardy mountain pony
He could scarcely raise a trot
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur
But his pluck was still undaunted
And his courage fiery hot
For never yet was mountain horse a cur
And down by Kosciuszko
Where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high
Where the air is clear as crystal
And the white stars fairly blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky
And where around the overflow
The reedbeds sweep and sway
To the breezes and the rolling plains are wide
Oh, the man from Snowy River
Is a household word today
And Stockman tell the story of his ride
And Stockman tell the story of his ride
And Stockman tell the story of his ride
And Stockman tell the story of his ride
And Stockman tell the story of his ride