So goodbye, Mrs. Brown, <br />I am going out of town, <br />Over dale, over down, <br />Where bugs bite not, <br />Where lodgers fight not, <br />Where below your chairmen drink not, <br />Where beside your gutters stink not; <br />But all is fresh and clean and gay, <br />And merry lambkins sport and play, <br />And they toss with rakes uncommonly short hay, <br />Which looks as if it had been sown only the other day, <br />And where oats are twenty-five shillings a boll, they say; <br />But all's one for that, since I must and will away.<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-leaving-mrs-brown-s-lodgings/
