I rode through the Bush in the burning noon, 
   Over the hills to my bride, -- 
The track was rough and the way was long, 
And Bannerman of the Dandenong, 
   He rode along by my side. 

A day's march off my Beautiful dwelt, 
   By the Murray streams in the West; -- 
Lightly lilting a gay love-song 
Rode Bannerman of the Dandenong, 
   With a blood-red rose on his breast. 

"Red, red rose of the Western streams" 
   Was the song he sang that day -- 
Truest comrade in hour of need, -- 
Bay Mathinna his peerless steed -- 
   I had my own good grey. 

There fell a spark on the upland grass -- 
   The dry Bush leapt into flame; -- 
And I felt my heart go cold as death, 
And Bannerman smiled and caught his breath, -- 
   But I heard him name Her name. 

Down the hill-side the fire-floods rushed, 
   On the roaring eastern wind; -- 
Neck and neck was the reckless race, -- 
Ever the bay mare kept her pace, 
   But the grey horse dropped behind. 

He turned in the saddle -- "Let's change, I say!" 
   And his bridle rein he drew. 
He sprang to the ground, -- "Look sharp!" he said 
With a backward toss of his curly head -- 
   "I ride lighter than you!" 

Down and up -- it was quickly done -- 
   No words to waste that day! -- 
Swift as a swallow she sped along, 
The good bay mare from Dandenong, -- 
   And Bannerman rode the grey. 

The hot air scorched like a furnace blast 
   From the very mouth of Hell: -- 
The blue gums caught and blazed on high 
Like flaming pillars into the sky; . . . 
   The grey horse staggered and fell. 

"Ride, ride, lad, -- ride for her sake!" he cried; -- 
   Into the gulf of flame 
Were swept, in less than a breathing space 
The laughing eyes, and the comely face, 
   And the lips that named HER name. 

She bore me bravely, the good bay mare; -- 
   Stunned, and dizzy and blind, 
I heard the sound of a mingling roar -- 
'Twas the Lachlan River that rushed before, 
   And the flames that rolled behind. 

Safe -- safe, at Nammoora gate, 
   I fell, and lay like a stone. 
O love! thine arms were about me then, 
Thy warm tears called me to life again, -- 
   But -- O God! that I came alone! -- 

We dwell in peace, my beautiful one 
   And I, by the streams in the West, -- 
But oft through the mist of my dreams along 
Rides Bannerman of the Dandenong, 
   With the blood-red rose on his breast.