From the runs of the Narran, wide-dotted with sheep, br And loud with the lowing of cattle, br We speed for a land where the strange forests sleep br And the hidden creeks bubble and brattle! br Now call on the horses, and leave the blind courses br And sources of rivers that all of us know; br For, crossing the ridges, and passing the ledges, br And running up gorges, we'll come to the verges br Of gullies where waters eternally flow. br Oh! the herds they will rush down the spurs of the hill br To feed on the grasses so cool and so sweet; br And I think that my life with delight will stand still br When we halt with the pleasant Barcoo at our feet. br br Good-bye to the Barwon, and brigalow scrubs, br Adieu to the Culgoa ranges, br But look for the mulga and salt-bitten shrubs, br Though the face of the forest-land changes.