The Road to Gundagai by Andrew Barton Paterson

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.