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But the man from Snowy River let the pony have its head, He swung his stock-whip round and gave a cheer, And he raced him down that 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 its feet, He cleared the fallen timber in his stride, And the man from Snowy ...
May 4, 2012 · But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head, And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer, And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed, While the others stood and watched in very fear. He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet, He cleared the fallen timber in his stride, And the man from ...
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The poem opens with the now-famous line ‘There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around’. We are told that there is a commotion at the station when it is discovered that a prized young colt has escaped and joined the wild horses in the mountains. A posse of the best horsemen in the district is assembled to set out and retrieve th...
Names some of the stockmen who had assembled for the hunt. Amongst these is Clancy of the Overflow, of whom Patterson wrote another poem of the same name. He is described as the best horseman in the area.
Describes the principal protagonist, a scrawny youngster mounted on an equally scrawny little horse who has arrived at the station to join the fray. They are ridiculed, but the narrator tells us that beneath the unimpressive exterior, there lies steely courage and tenacity in both the rider and his horse. The young man is not named.
The station owner waves the youngster away, telling them this is a man's job. The young boy and his horse stand aside dejected. But Clancy of the Overflow stands up for them, telling the station owner that the boy and the horse are from some of the toughest parts of the mountain country and will surely demonstrate their worth. Clancy reaffirms the ...
Clancy goes on to tell them that this rider comes from the Snowy River district which has the toughest and most treacherous terrain in the area and the most skilful mountain riders to be found anywhere.
The posse set out and soon encounter the wild horses by a clump of trees, but they galloped away. The posse gave chase, knowing that once the horses reach the mountains, it would be impossible finding them again.
The chase in on. Clancy wheels around the wild horses and races to the front, cracking his stockwhip in the air in to corral them. The horses halt momentarily, cowered by the sound of his stockwhip, but alas, they glimpse their mountain refuge in the distance and dash away into the mountain shrub.
The posse sets out after the wild horses following them through the deep gorges and ravines as they rode higher and higher up the steep mountainside. The station owner mutters furiously that if the horses reach the top and start their descent down the other side, no rider in his right mind would be capable of following them.
On reaching the summit, the entire posse, including Clancy, come to a screeching halt. So treacherous was the decent, covered with dense shrub and pockmarked with wombat holes that no one dared venture any further. But the man from Snowy River (the first direct reference to him) and his horse are undaunted and gallantly set out in hot pursuit while...
The narrator describes how horse and ride descend the steep and obstacle-strewn mountainside, not pausing at all until they reach the bottom.
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The man from Snowy River is a household word to-day, And the stockmen tell the story of his ride. The concluding stanza of the poem describes the fame “the man from Snowy River” attained. He proved himself through the heroic act of horsemanship. Thus he has become a name in “Kosciusko” and the places around him.
- Female
- March 18, 1991
- Poetry Analyst
Of wombat holes, and any slip was death. But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head, And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer, And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed, While the others stood and watched in very fear. He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,
Jan 31, 2018 · Here are ten of the best river poems. Edmund Spenser, Prothalamion. There, in a meadow, by the river’s side, A flock of nymphs I chanced to espy, All lovely daughters of the flood thereby, With goodly greenish locks, all loose untied, As each had been a bride; And each one had a little wicker basket,
Lighting a man-hole leading to the hold, A man-hole leaded down the day before. Like gold the solder on the man-hole shone; A few flies threading in a drowsy dance Slept in their pattern, darted, and were gone. The river roared against the ship's advance. And quietly sleep came upon the crew, Man by man drooped upon his arms and slept;
