( 6 )
CALEDONIA LOOK'D DOWN.
When the moon had retir'd with her laſt feeble beam,
And midnight left lonely and ſtill;
When nothing was heard but the roar of the ſtream
And the howl of the Fox on the hill,
O'er Clutha's blue ſtream, from a dark thunder cloud;
Afloat o'er the low ſweeping gale,
Caledonia look'd down, and contemplating, view'd
Her ſons, as they ſlept in the dale.
"Sleep on!" thus began the celeſtial dame,
"And loll at your eaſe while you may,
"For the blaſt which ſhall wither the flow'r of your fame,
"To your ſhores has directed its way.
"The Prince of Ambition, the Agent of Fate,
"Its decrees for a time ſhall fulfil:
"For Kings he can conquer, and Kingdoms create,
"And plant upon Thrones whom he will.
"The proud he can humble, the ſtrong he can ſhake;
"And murmurings huſh with a frown;
"And you, O my children (I grieve for your ſake)
"Are doom'd to complete his renown.
"For his heart is the ſeat of unbounded deſire,
"Which delights in the blood of the brave,
"Nor can he get reſt, he proclaims in his ire,
"Till triumplant he ride on your waves."
"Then he'll never get reft, for it ſhall not be ſo,"
Each heart in a tranſport reply'd,
"Begone thou falſe viſion! thou ſeem'ſt not to know,
"The race, that ſo oft have been tried——
"Tho' a blaſt our ſhores ha directed its way,
"With the Agent of Fate in its womb,
"Yet our fame ſhall not ſink in the ſhades of diſmay,
"For its ſlow'r he ſhall never conſume.
