Bram-Stoker's Dracula floated upon the river Esk...
As he puffed along...
All one hundred and ninety nine stone steps.
Giving grace amongst the grateful dead...
Stuck in their nocturnal wooden sheds...
Abbes Hilda presided over the Whitby sinners...
Giving rise to all our easter dinners...
Abbey nuns stuffed full of kosher pork...
Play hop-scotch in Dracula's park...
Singing loud Baroque music...
To all the spirits in the sky...
At the bottom of all those steps...
Donkey lane...
Leads into the Duke of York drinking hole...
Half cut...
Well healed...
Little devils and angels...
Mount the roadside stone...
To fly back all the way home...
Captain Cook slung his hook...
Upon lands so near and far...
As he sailed in his Whitby built ships...
As a robust man of his time...
He came unstuck...
In the tropics...
Of Hawaii...
Gothic nights out are a real northern delight...
Dressed up to the tees...
In your studs and black heels...
Insider deals are made at the smugglers Inn...
With a shake of the hands...
You exclude the taxman...
Weasels on vapours high...
Run between the narrow yards and novel alleys...
Just like Lewis Carrol...
Cobbled Henriette street...
Is a real treat for Yorkshire folk...
Who enjoy oaked smoked fish and meat...
God bless jumping sheep...
Medieval Flowergate...
Who's steep yards and gates...
Gets a mention...
In the notorious...
Hand written...
Doomsday book...
Is worth an eagle eye...
Royal Hotel...
Is a bell-boys golden gem...
Sits nicely upon nostalgic terraced wells...
Whitby is a ruby red jewel...
Split into East and West...
With loads of historical interest...
Many taverns and Inns...
Welcome visitors from near and far...
To the delights of this most gracious...
Northern Star...
