Cummings sat a ‘watching
As Beardman took the reins
And rode that mighty stallion
Through Melbourne’s lofty plains
The thunder of the thoroughbreds
was heard across the land
Saintly on the inside rails
Waiting for his stand
The crowds had gathered early
The rain had gone elsewhere
The atmosphere magnificent
Tension held the air
Eight hundred yards before the line
He galloped down the straight
Saintly calling all the shots
He’d fired his mighty gait
As they crossed the finish line
The heavens sung their praise
This sturdy stallion flung his mane
The crowd came into play
As sweat dripped upon Saintly’s chest
His nostril flared and shone
This mighty stallion threw back his head
And Beardman knew that they had won
A tear welled up in Cumming’s eye
As Saintly took the line
A proud and solemn moment for
A great Aussie in his time
Beardman’s arm went out to all
As he felt his heart arise
Remembering forever
This mighty Melbourne prize
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