Well come along, said I to me,

And let us see what we can see.

Let us find the top of that hill

That we can see from our windowsill.


Think what secrets could be found

Amongst those tall buildings way downtown,

What statues prance from street to street,

And quaint parks spring where corners meet.


What will I find once the path curves,

Following the way the green creek swerves,

As it meanders through the white, white stone

Setting its course to the lake alone?


I will test which stream is coolest,

And find which branch is longest,

And know which street is the brightest,

For when the times are darkest.


With so much to see, who could remain home,

Just fiddling with a silver comb?

For paintings and melodies bloom unknown,

And there are mountains still to roam.


So with what small time I may bend,

These little bits of the weekend,

Let me dip in the lakes and climb up the towers

And have a small adventure in my idle hours.

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