And the water-pools flash in it's glow,

Down the ridges we fly, with a loud ringing cry-

down the ridges and gullies we go!

And the cattle we hunt, they are racing in front,

with a roar like the thunder of waves,

As the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet

Start the echoes away from their caves -

As the beat and the beat

Of our swift horses feet

Start the echoes away from their caves.

Like the wintry shore that the waters ride o'er,

All the lowlands are filling with sound:

For swiftly we gain where the herds on the plain

Like a tempest are tearing the ground!

But we follow them hard to the rails of the yard,

over gulches and mountain-tops grey,

Where the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet

Will die with the echoes away -

Where the beat and the beat

Of our swift horses' feet

Will die with the echoes away.