Do not take a bath in Jordan, Gordon, br On the holy Sabbath, on the peaceful day! ' br Said the huntsman, playing on his old bagpipe, br Boring to death the pheasant and the snipe — br Boring the ptarmigan and grouse for fun — br Boring them worse than a nine-bore gun. br Till the flaxen leaves where the prunes are ripe, br Heard the tartan wind a-droning in the pipe, br And they heard Macpherson say: br 'Where do the waves go? What hotels br Hide their bustles and their gay ombrelles? br And would there be room? — br br Would there be room? br Would there be room br for br me? br br There is a hotel at Ostend br Cold as the wind, without an end, br Haunted by ghostly poor relations br Of Bostonian conversations br (Like bagpipes rotting through the walls.) br And there the pearl-ropes fall like shawls br With a noise like marine waterfalls. br And 'Another little drink wouldn't do us any harm! ' br Pierces through the Sabbatical calm.