Rio Grande's Last Race, and Other Verses

Part 1

Produced by A. Light, and David M. Medinets

RIO GRANDE'S LAST RACE AND OTHER VERSES

by A. B. Paterson

Original 1902 Sydney edition

The verses in this collection have appeared in papers in various parts of the world--"Rio Grande" in London; most of the war verses in Bloemfontein; others in Sydney.

A. B. Paterson.

Contents with First Lines:

Rio Grande's Last Race Now this was what Macpherson told

By the Grey Gulf-water Far to the Northward there lies a land,

With the Cattle The drought is down on field and flock,

The First Surveyor 'The opening of the railway line! -- the Governor and all!

Mulga Bill's Bicycle 'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;

The Pearl Diver Kanzo Makame, the diver, sturdy and small Japanee,

The City of Dreadful Thirst The stranger came from Narromine and made his little joke --

Saltbush Bill's Gamecock 'Twas Saltbush Bill, with his travelling sheep, was making his way to town;

Hay and Hell and Booligal 'You come and see me, boys,' he said;

A Walgett Episode The sun strikes down with a blinding glare,

Father Riley's Horse 'Twas the horse thief, Andy Regan, that was hunted like a dog

The Scotch Engineer With eyes that searched in the dark,

Song of the Future 'Tis strange that in a land so strong,

Anthony Considine Out in the wastes of the West countrie,

Song of the Artesian Water Now the stock have started dying, for the Lord has sent a drought;

A Disqualified Jockey's Story You see, the thing was this way -- there was me,

The Road to Gundagai The mountain road goes up and down,

Saltbush Bill's Second Fight The news came down on the Castlereagh, and went to the world at large,

Hard Luck I left the course, and by my side

Song of the Federation As the nations sat together, grimly waiting --

The Old Australian Ways The London lights are far abeam

Part 2

The Ballad of the 'Calliope' By the far Samoan shore,

Do They Know Do they know? At the turn to the straight

The Passing of Gundagai 'I'll introdooce a friend!' he said,

The Wargeilah Handicap Wargeilah town is very small,

Any Other Time All of us play our very best game --

The Last Trump 'You led the trump,' the old man said

Tar and Feathers Oh! the circus swooped down

It's Grand It's grand to be a squatter

Out of Sight They held a polo meeting at a little country town,

The Road to Old Man's Town The fields of youth are filled with flowers,

The Old Timer's Steeplechase The sheep were shorn and the wool went down

In the Stable What! You don't like him; well, maybe -- we all have our fancies, of course:

"He Giveth His Beloved Sleep" The long day passes with its load of sorrow:

Driver Smith 'Twas Driver Smith of Battery A was anxious to see a fight;

There's Another Blessed Horse Fell Down When you're lying in your hammock, sleeping soft and sleeping sound,

On the Trek Oh, the weary, weary journey on the trek, day after day,

The Last Parade With never a sound of trumpet,

With French to Kimberley The Boers were down on Kimberley with siege and Maxim gun;

Johnny Boer Men fight all shapes and sizes as the racing horses run,

What Have the Cavalry Done What have the cavalry done?

Right in the Front of the Army 'Where 'ave you been this week or more,

That V.C. 'Twas in the days of front attack,

Fed Up I ain't a timid man at all, I'm just as brave as most,

Jock! There's a soldier that's been doing of his share

Santa Claus Halt! Who goes there? The sentry's call

RIO GRANDE'S LAST RACE AND OTHER VERSES

Rio Grande's Last Race

Now this was what Macpherson told While waiting in the stand; A reckless rider, over-bold, The only man with hands to hold The rushing Rio Grande.

Part 3

He said, 'This day I bid good-bye To bit and bridle rein, To ditches deep and fences high, For I have dreamed a dream, and I Shall never ride again.

'I dreamt last night I rode this race That I to-day must ride, And cant'ring down to take my place I saw full many an old friend's face Come stealing to my side.

'Dead men on horses long since dead, They clustered on the track; The champions of the days long fled, They moved around with noiseless tread -- Bay, chestnut, brown, and black.

'And one man on a big grey steed Rode up and waved his hand; Said he, "We help a friend in need, And we have come to give a lead To you and Rio Grande.

'"For you must give the field the slip, So never draw the rein, But keep him moving with the whip, And if he falter -- set your lip And rouse him up again.

'"But when you reach the big stone wall, Put down your bridle hand And let him sail -- he cannot fall -- But don't you interfere at all; You trust old Rio Grande."

'We started, and in front we showed, The big horse running free: Right fearlessly and game he strode, And by my side those dead men rode Whom no one else could see.

'As silently as flies a bird, They rode on either hand; At every fence I plainly heard The phantom leader give the word, "Make room for Rio Grande!"

'I spurred him on to get the lead, I chanced full many a fall; But swifter still each phantom steed Kept with me, and at racing speed We reached the big stone wall.

'And there the phantoms on each side Drew in and blocked his leap; "Make room! make room!" I loudly cried, But right in front they seemed to ride -- I cursed them in my sleep.

'He never flinched, he faced it game, He struck it with his chest, And every stone burst out in flame, And Rio Grande and I became As phantoms with the rest.

'And then I woke, and for a space All nerveless did I seem; For I have ridden many a race, But never one at such a pace As in that fearful dream.

'And I am sure as man can be That out upon the track, Those phantoms that men cannot see Are waiting now to ride with me, And I shall not come back.

'For I must ride the dead men's race, And follow their command; 'Twere worse than death, the foul disgrace If I should fear to take my place To-day on Rio Grande.'

He mounted, and a jest he threw, With never sign of gloom; But all who heard the story knew That Jack Macpherson, brave and true, Was going to his doom.

They started, and the big black steed Came flashing past the stand; All single-handed in the lead He strode along at racing speed, The mighty Rio Grande.

But on his ribs the whalebone stung, A madness it did seem! And soon it rose on every tongue That Jack Macpherson rode among The creatures of his dream.

He looked to left and looked to right, As though men rode beside; And Rio Grande, with foam-flecks white, Raced at his jumps in headlong flight And cleared them in his stride.

But when they reached the big stone wall, Down went the bridle-hand, And loud we heard Macpherson call, 'Make room, or half the field will fall! Make room for Rio Grande!'

. . . . .

'He's down! he's down!' And horse and man Lay quiet side by side! No need the pallid face to scan, We knew with Rio Grande he ran The race the dead men ride.

By the Grey Gulf-water

Far to the Northward there lies a land, A wonderful land that the winds blow over, And none may fathom nor understand The charm it holds for the restless rover; A great grey chaos -- a land half made, Where endless space is and no life stirreth; And the soul of a man will recoil afraid From the sphinx-like visage that Nature weareth. But old Dame Nature, though scornful, craves Her dole of death and her share of slaughter; Many indeed are the nameless graves Where her victims sleep by the Grey Gulf-water.

Slowly and slowly those grey streams glide, Drifting along with a languid motion, Lapping the reed-beds on either side, Wending their way to the Northern Ocean. Grey are the plains where the emus pass Silent and slow, with their staid demeanour; Over the dead men's graves the grass Maybe is waving a trifle greener. Down in the world where men toil and spin Dame Nature smiles as man's hand has taught her; Only the dead men her smiles can win In the great lone land by the Grey Gulf-water.

For the strength of man is an insect's strength In the face of that mighty plain and river, And the life of a man is a moment's length To the life of the stream that will run for ever. And so it cometh they take no part In small-world worries; each hardy rover Rideth abroad and is light of heart, With the plains around and the blue sky over. And up in the heavens the brown lark sings The songs that the strange wild land has taught her; Full of thanksgiving her sweet song rings -- And I wish I were back by the Grey Gulf-water.

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