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The Queen of Yorkshire’s lovely coast 
Is Scarborough who, quite rightly, boasts
    Its good clean beaches, castle grand -
    And donkey rides on Scarborough’s sands.

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They’ve B&B’s that say: 'Come In'
And warming sun to brown the skin.
     They’ve bracing winds that clear the lungs
      With salted air that sits on tongues.

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Gone are the Romans, long ago,
And Danes have gone, oh yes, I know.
     But gone and left no living trace?
     No, their mark’s been left upon this place.

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It looks across the cold North Sea,
And, standing high for all to see,
     A castle glowers to scare the foe
     Who might be lurking down below.

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Its threatening face no longer shields
Our country from those far afield,
    And Scarborough, looking out to sea,
    Greets all with hospitality. 

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