D D7 G D 1. There was movement at the station tor the word had passed around, G Em A that the colt from Old Regret had got away, D D7 G D and had joined the wild bush horses, he was worth a thousand pound, G A D and all the cracks had gathered to the fray. G D All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far A mustered at the homestead overnight, D D7 G D for the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are, G A D and the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight. D D7 G D 2. There was Harrison who made his pile when Pardon won the cup G Em A the old man with his hair as white as snow, D D7 G D but few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up, G A D he would go wherever horse and man could go. G D And Clancy of the overflow came down to lend a hand, A no better horseman ever held the reins, D D7 G D for never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths would stand, G A D he'd learned to ride while droving on the plains. D D7 G D 3. When they reached the mountain summit even Clancy took a pull, G Em A it well might make the boldest hold their breath, D D7 G D for the wild hop scrub grew thickly and the hidden ground was full, G A D of wombat holes and any slip was death. G D But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head, A and he swung his stockwhip 'round and gave a cheer, D D7 G D and he raced them down the mountain like a torrent in its bed, G A D while the others stood and watched in very fear. D D7 G D 4. He ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam, G Em A he followed like a blood-hound on their track, D D7 G D 'tiIl they halted cowed and beaten and he tumed their heads for home, G A D and alone and unassisted brought them back. G D But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot, A he was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur, D D7 G D but his courage was undaunted and his pluck was fiery hot, G A D for never yet was mountain horse a cur. D D7 G D 5. And down by Kosciusko where the pine-clad ridges raise G Em A their torn and rugged battlements on high, D D7 G D where the air is clear as crystal and the white stars fairly blaze, G A D at midnight in the cold and frosty skies. G D And where around the overflow the reed beds sweep and sway, A to the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide, D D7 G D the man from Snowy River is a household word today, G A D - G - D and the stockmen tell the story of his ride. (Banjo Patterson)