Comments about Peter Bodin
The dust rose above the hill
As the Beechworth Coach went by
Old one armed Bill at the reins
With a twinkle in his eye.
The horses hooves rang on the stones
Sparks flying left and right
As the coach took the left hand fork
That was the road to Bright.
Old Bill has driven the Beechworth Coach
For more years than one can remember
In rain and hail and stormy weather
And in the hot sun of December.
The kids along the dusty track
All wave and talk to Old Bill
As he drives his team along the way
Up and over the ...