Caledonia: A Ballad

9A lambkin in peace, but a lion in war,

10 The pride of her kindred, the heroine grew:

11Her grandsire, old Odin, triumphantly swore,—

12 “Whoe’er shall provoke thee, th’ encounter shall rue!”

13With tillage or pasture at times she would sport,

14 To feed her fair flocks by her green rustling corn;

15But chiefly the woods were her fav’rite resort,

16 Her darling amusement, the hounds and the horn.

17Long quiet she reigned; till thitherward steers

18 A flight of bold eagles from Adria’s strand:

19Repeated, successive, for many long years,

20 They darken’d the air, and they plunder’d the land:

21Their pounces were murder, and terror their cry,

22 They’d conquer’d and ruin’d a world beside;

23She took to her hills, and her arrows let fly,

24 The daring invaders they fled or they died.

25The Cameleon-Savage disturb’d her repose,

26 With tumult, disquiet, rebellion, and strife;

27Provok’d beyond bearing, at last she arose,

28 And robb’d him at once of his hopes and his life:

29The Anglian lion, the terror of France,

30 Oft prowling, ensanguin’d the Tweed’s silver flood;

31But, taught by the bright Caledonian lance,

32 He learnèd to fear in his own native wood.

33The fell Harpy-raven took wing from the north,

34 The scourge of the seas, and the dread of the shore;

35The wild Scandinavian boar issued forth

36 To wanton in carnage and wallow in gore:

37O’er countries and kingdoms their fury prevail’d,

38 No arts could appease them, no arms could repel;

39But brave Caledonia in vain they assail’d,

40 As Largs well can witness, and Loncartie tell.

41Thus bold, independent, unconquer’d, and free,

42 Her bright course of glory for ever shall run:

43For brave Caledonia immortal must be;

44 I’ll prove it from Euclid as clear as the sun:

45Rectangle-triangle, the figure we’ll chuse:

46 The upright is Chance, and old Time is the base;

47But brave Caledonia’s the hypothenuse;

48 Then, ergo, she’ll match them, and match them always.