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 adobe.
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 streamboad 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 worry When I’m cashing in my check.
For my soul will stay forever, In the good old Northern Neck.
– JAMES S. ALLEN