'Twas nearing the time when my holiday comes,
And I sat in the City, where business hums,
And I murmured "Now, which of all spots is the best
To assure me contentment, amusement and rest,
Shall I travel down South, to the lure of the coast,
Where each Town is besieged by a holiday host,
Where the somewhat irreverent trippers repair?"
And Echo replied (sotto voce), " Not there,
Not there, not there, my child."
"Shall I travel up North to the land of the Scot,
Where the whisky is strong and the haggis is hot,
Where the Scot spends his time in the midst of his friends,
(And folk say unkindly that's all that he spends).
Shall I go to Strathpeffer or gay Aberdeen,
Where the lassies will glower with their bonny glad e'en,
Shall I go up to Inverness, Oban or Ayr? "
And Echo said, "Dinna ye fash yersel' there,
Not there, not there, my child."
"Shall I cross to Ould Ireland, fair Emerald Isle,
Where the colleens have, always, a broth of a smile,
Where the Sassenach always is welcomed, no end,
(As long as he's got any money to spend).
Shall it be Tipperary, Kilkenny, or Cork,
Where the dear little pigs are all made into pork,
In the land of the Shamrock there's welcome to spare,"
And Echo said, " Aisy, Begorra, not there,
Not there, not there, my child."
"Shall I stick to old England, I've heard people state
There's an unbeaten spot, that is called Harrogate,
Which caters for every taste there may be,
And has scenery round worth your going to see
The Town in itself is majestic and grand,
There is fine Architecture on every hand,
The immediate neighbourhood's fair to the eye,
And the climate's salubrious, bracing, and dry,
Is this the ideal for a holiday spot ?
Is Harrogate really the nugget, or not ?
To benefit health will the place do the trick ? "
And Echo said, "Snap it, you're certain to click,
It is there, it is there, my child."
|
