Not those, along the route prescribed
To see them in a hurry,
Church, palace, gallery, described
By worthy Mr. MURRAY.
Nor those detailed as well by whom
But BAEDEKER, the German;
The choir, the nave, the font, the tomb,
The pulpit for the sermon.
No tourist traps which tire you out,
A never-ending worry;
Most interesting things, no doubt,
Described by Mr. MURRAY.
Nor yet, O gastronomic mind--
In cookery a boss, sage
In recipes--you will not find,
I mean Bologna sausage.
Not beauties, which, perhaps, you class
With your own special curry;
Not beauties, which we must not pass
If led by Mr. MURRAY.
I sing--alas, how very ill!--
Those beauties of the city,
The praise of whose dark eyes might fill
A much more worthy ditty.
O, Ladies of Bologna, who
The coldest heart might flurry,
I much prefer to study you
Than BAEDEKER or MURRAY!
Those guide-book sights no longer please;
Three hours still, _tre ore_,
I have to lounge and look at these
_Bellissime signore_.
Then slow express--South Western goes
Much faster into Surrey--
Will take me off to other shows
Described by Mr. MURRAY.
But still, _Signore_, there will be,
By your sweet faces smitten,
One Englishman who came to see
What BAEDEKER has written.
Let BAEDEKER then see the lot
In frantic hurry-scurry.
I've found some beauties which are not
Described by Mr. MURRAY.
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