Farewell, merry maidens, to song, and to laugh, <br />For the brave lads of Westra are bound to the Haaf; <br />And we must have labour, and hunger, and pain, <br />Ere we dance with the maids of Dunrossness again. <br /> <br />For now, in our trim boats of Noroway deal, <br />We must dance on the waves, with the porpoise and seal <br />The breeze it shall pipe, so it pipe not too high, <br />And the gull be our songstress whene'er she flits by. <br /> <br />Sing on, my brave bird, while we follow, like thee, <br />By bank, shoal, and quicksand, the swarms of the sea; <br />And when twenty-score fishes are straining our line, <br />Sing louder, brave bird, for their spoils shall be thine. <br /> <br />We'll sing while we bait, and we'll sing while we haul <br />For the deeps of the Haaf have enough for us all: <br />There is torsk for the gentle, and skate for the carle, <br />And there's wealth for bold Magnus, the son of the earl. <br /> <br />Huzza! my brave comrades, give way for the Haaf, <br />We shall sooner come back to the dance and the laugh; <br />For life without mirth is a lamp without oil; <br />Then, mirth and long life to the bold Magnus Troil!<br /><br />Sir Walter Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-of-the-zetland-fisherman/
