The True Scots Genius, Reviving A Poem. Written upon occasion of the Resolve past in Parliament, the 17th of July 1704 [by Forbes of Disblair] |
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 | The True Scots Genius, Reviving |  |
The Fury of the Goths here stopt its course:
The Manly Warlike Saxon wanted Force
To cut a Passage; and the Martial Dane,
His Successor, was oft beat back with Shame.
England's proud Conquerors could never tame
My Native Fierceness, nor Enthrall my Fame:
My Ancient Laws and Priv'leges still stood,
Tho' deeply writ in Characters of Blood.
To force and Hostile Arms I never bow'd.
When Treach'ry sometimes had me half Subdu'd:
But still, in utmost Straits, I could retain
My Bleeding Freedom, and Secur't again,
Untill this last, to me Inglorious, Age
In which my Spirits sunk, and Noble Rage
Decay'd into a Tameness, which did still
Too faintly Strugle with our Jaylors Will,
Or meanly suffer'd from them all that's ill.
And will you thus in Slavery, ever ly
Regardless of your Fame and Memory,
Your present Int'rest and Posterity?
Shall you be ever plagued with the Curse
Of Poverty? and will you (which is worse)
Be always Drudging Slaves to th' English Nation:
Submissive Fools to th' End of the Creation?
Forbid it Heavens!
The Manly Warlike Saxon wanted Force
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His Successor, was oft beat back with Shame.
England's proud Conquerors could never tame
My Native Fierceness, nor Enthrall my Fame:
My Ancient Laws and Priv'leges still stood,
Tho' deeply writ in Characters of Blood.
To force and Hostile Arms I never bow'd.
When Treach'ry sometimes had me half Subdu'd:
But still, in utmost Straits, I could retain
My Bleeding Freedom, and Secur't again,
Untill this last, to me Inglorious, Age
In which my Spirits sunk, and Noble Rage
Decay'd into a Tameness, which did still
Too faintly Strugle with our Jaylors Will,
Or meanly suffer'd from them all that's ill.
And will you thus in Slavery, ever ly
Regardless of your Fame and Memory,
Your present Int'rest and Posterity?
Shall you be ever plagued with the Curse
Of Poverty? and will you (which is worse)
Be always Drudging Slaves to th' English Nation:
Submissive Fools to th' End of the Creation?
Forbid it Heavens!
Nay, since, in some true Honour still had place;
Since young Repentance gloweth in the Face
Of some, who once misled, do now intend
To be Reform'd sincerely, and Amend:
Tho' some will still be V******ns to the End.
I do You all Adjure, (and hope to find
The Better Part to SCOTLAND's Interest kind.)
To raise your Ancient Spirit, and the Blood,
Which Frozen, long a round your Heart hath stood:
I'le be your tutl'ar Angel, lead the way
To Glory, Freedom, Fame and Victory.
Since young Repentance gloweth in the Face
Of some, who once misled, do now intend
To be Reform'd sincerely, and Amend:
Tho' some will still be V******ns to the End.
I do You all Adjure, (and hope to find
The Better Part to SCOTLAND's Interest kind.)
To raise your Ancient Spirit, and the Blood,
Which Frozen, long a round your Heart hath stood:
I'le be your tutl'ar Angel, lead the way
To Glory, Freedom, Fame and Victory.
This said, she paus'd and with a Piercing Eye
The Passions in each Face she did Survey,
In some deep shame, in some did Native Love,
In some did Sparks of Radiant Courage move
Some were Eclipsed with a Couard Fear;
And some with Conscious guilt, and deep Despair.
The Passions in each Face she did Survey,
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In some did Sparks of Radiant Courage move
Some were Eclipsed with a Couard Fear;
And some with Conscious guilt, and deep Despair.
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