william walton - scotch rhapsody lyrics
do not take a bath in jordan
gordon
on the holy sabbath, on the peaceful day!
said the huntsman
playing on his old bagpipe
boring to death the pheasant
and the snipe –
boring the ptarmigan
and grouse for fun –
boring them worse
than a nine-bore gun
till the flaxen leaves where the
prunes are ripe
heard the tartan wind a-droning
through the pipe
and they, heard macpherson say:
“where do the waves go; what hotels
hide their bustles
and their g-y ombrelles?
and would there be room for me? –
would there be room
would there be room for me?”
there is a hotel at ostend
cold as the wind, without an end
haunted by ghostly poor relations
of bostonian conversations
(like bagpipes rotting
through the walls.)
and there the pearl-ropes fall like shawls
with a noise like marine waterfalls
and “another little drink
wouldn’t do us any harm”
pierces through the sabbatical calm
and that is the place for me!
so do not take a bath in jordan
gordon
on the holy sabbath on the
peaceful day-
or you’ll never go to heaven
gordon macpherson
and speaking purely as a private person
that is the place – that is the place –
that is the place for me!
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