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Oft wand'ring by thy sea-beat shore I woo'd the pensive Muse;Nor will the Genii of thy rocks This votive lay refuse.
Long be thy banks, romantic Sound[1]! Industry's happy seat;And long thy fame remember'd be;— First trod by princely feet!
May commerce oft with spreading sail, To Lerwick's coast repair;And gentle peace, on halcyon plume, For ever linger there.
And long the nymphs of Lerwick shine, Devoid of modish art:With beauty deck'd, and ev'ry charm That wins the gallant heart.
And fertile prove your barren fields, Adorn'd with waving grain,Where nought was seen but noisome weeds, And dreary desert plain.
And may that source of half your wealth, The ocean's finny race,
- ↑ A beautiful spot, near the town of Lerwick; the property of Mr. Nicholson, of Lochend. It was here, according to tradition, that some Norwegian prince, of high celebrity, formerly landed.
