- This poem is dedicated to the beauty of the Shire -
I raise my voice, sing a sweet sang,
In praise o' Shire lasses,
For traveled had I across the land,
Found nothing that them surpasses.
They cheer ye up, and smile and dance
When ye are all down and sad,
They bring joy with loving glance
Enchanting this simple Shire lad.
How sweet it is at gloamin' grey
To meet yer lassie so fair,
Then wander to some secret place,
An' tell yer love tales there.
You feel happy while ye sit-
How fast then the time passes!
Admiring the sweet face and charm
Of bonny Shire'lasses.
They make ye happy when ye are sad,
They are so full' o' life
And oh! 'tis sweet beyond compare
They'll make a bonny wife.
So let me tune a loving lyre,
In praise o' Shire lasses,
That treads our land so free;
There nothing that them surpasses.
