The Northern Neck

 

Between the yellow Rappahannock

And the broad Potomac blue

There’s a lovely bit of country

Down in old Virginia true.

 

Just a narrow strip of inland

On the map it’s scarce a speck,

But it’s Home to everybody

In the good old Northern Neck.

 

You go sixty miles from nowhere

Down a winding country road,

Past a picturesque old mill pond,

And a patriot’s first abode.

 

Yes, it’s rather isolated

But I know when you reflect

You will surely want to linger

In the good old Northern Neck.

 

You’ll find many stately mansions

Of the true Colonial style

Tucked behind old-fashioned gardens

Filled with flowers all the while.

 

River views, with steamboat landings,

Everything you could expect

Of Virginia’s rich tradition

In the good old Northern Neck.

 

The folks have got a charming way

Of saying, “Come right in.”

There’s smoke cured ham and batter-bread

With potatoes in the bin.

 

The people still believe in God,

And home is not a wreck.

And everybody’s “Kith and kin”

In the good old Northern Neck.

 

Sure, I’ve heard them sing of Heaven

Guess ‘twas never meant for me.

But sometimes I stop and wonder

How the next world’s going to be.

 

But St. Peter needn’t work

When I’m cashing in my check,

For my soul will stay forever,

In the good old Northern Neck.

 

                        James S. Allen

 

Warsaw, Virginia, July 20, 1925

 

Nothing that I could possibly add to this.