Ode to a Fair Maid of Gundagai

A short romantic reverie, Paterson utilizes a chance encounter to muse on love, longing, and missed opportunities. Through lyrical description and subtle characterization, he explores themes of desire and regret.

The poem opens by vividly orienting us on a rugged path diverging to two Outback towns – he describes a mountain road that goes up and down from Gundagai to Tumut Town, with a track branching off across the foothills and plains to Sydney city far away. Paterson’s language establishes a remote, quintessentially Australian setting.

We share the narrator’s perspective as he meets an attractive young woman at the crossing. Paterson’s imagery, depicting her beauty and the melodious tone of her voice, allows us to appreciate the profound impression she makes.

The narrator seems enchanted by her alluring combination of shyness and boldness. When she kisses a local man, he is haunted by the passion of her spontaneous affection for another.

Paterson deftly pivots the poem from potential flirtation to wistful longing in just a few lines. The narrator accepts his own resolution, yet cannot help imagining what might have been.

Through evocative descriptions and emotional nuance, Paterson crafts a bittersweet reflection on the roads not taken. His ability to infuse a brief encounter with lyrical romance and insight into the human heart is a hallmark of his poetic mastery.

The Road to Gundagai

The mountain road goes up and down
From Gundagai to Tumut Town.

And, branching off, there runs a track
Across the foothills grim and black,

Across the plains and ranges grey
To Sydney city far away.

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It came by chance one day that I
From Tumut rode to Gundagai,

And reached about the evening tide
The crossing where the roads divide;

And, waiting at the crossing place,
I saw a maiden fair of face,

With eyes of deepest violet blue,
And cheeks to match the rose in hue—

The fairest maids Australia knows
Are bred among the mountain snows.

Then, fearing I might go astray,
I asked if she could show the way.

Her voice might well a man bewitch—
Its tones so supple, deep, and rich.

“The tracks are clear,” she made reply,
“And this goes down to Sydney town,
And that one goes to Gundagai.”

Then slowly, looking coyly back,
She went along the Sydney track

And I for one was well content
To go the road the lady went;

But round the turn a swain she met—
The kiss she gave him haunts me yet!

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I turned and travelled with a sigh
The lonely road to Gundagai.