The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Caledonia
For works with similar titles, see Caledonia.
CALEDONIA.
TUNE—'CALEDONIAN HUNT'S DELIGHT.'
There was once a day, but old Time then was young,That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line,From some of your northern deities sprung:(Who knows not that brave Caledonia's divine?)From Tweed to the Orcades was her domain,To hunt, or to pasture, or do what she would:Her heavenly relations there fixed her reign,And pledg'd her their godheads to warrant it good.
A lambkin in peace, but a lion in war,The pride of her kindred the heroine grew;Her grandsire, old Odin triumphantly swore,'Whoe'er shall provoke thee, th' encounter shall rue!'With tillage or pasture at times she would sport,To feed her fair flocks by her green rustling corn:But chiefly the woods were her fav'rite resort,Her darling amusement, the hounds and the horn.
Long quiet she reign'd; till thitherward steersA flight of bold eagles from Adria's strand;Repeated, successive, for many long years,They darken'd the air, and they plunder'd the land.Their pounces were murder, and terror their cry;They conquer'd and ruin'd a world beside;She took to the hills, and her arrows let fly,The daring invaders they fled or they died.
The fell Harpy-raven took wing from the north,The scourge of the seas, and the dread of the shore;The wild Scandinavian boar issu'd forthTo wanton in carnage and wallow in gore:O'er countries and kingdoms their fury prevail'd,No arts could appease them, no arms could rebel:But brave Caledonia in vain they assail'd,As Largs well can witness, and Loncartie tell.
The Cameleon-savage disturb'd her repose,With tumult, disquiet, rebellion, and strife;Provok'd beyond bearing, at last she arose,And robb'd him at once of his hopes and his life:The Anglian lion, the terror of France,Oft prowling, ensanguin'd the Tweed's silver flood;But, taught by the bright Caledonian lance,He learned to fear in his own native wood.
Thus bold, independent, unconquer'd, and free,Her bright course of glory for ever shall run:For brave Caledonia immortal must be;I'll prove it from Euclid as clear as the sun:Rectangle-triangle, the figure we'll choose,The upright is Chance, and old Time is the base;But brave Caledonia's the hypothenuse;Then ergo, she'll match them, and match them always.