MAMBLE

I never went to Mamble

That lies above the Teme,

So I wonder who’ s in Mamble,

And whether people seem

Who breed and brew along there

As lazy as the name,

And whether any song there

Sets alehouse wits aflame.

The finger-post says Mamble,

And that is all I know

Of the narrow road to Mamble,

And should I turn and go

To that place of lazy token

That lies above the Teme,

There might be a Mamble broken

That was lissom in a dream.

So leave the road to Mamble

And take another road

To as good a place as Mamble

Be it lazy as a toad;

Who travels Worcester county

Takes any place that comes

When April tosses bounty

To the cherries and the plums.