Series 1 > Grameid: an heroic poem descriptive of the campaign of Viscount Dundee in 1689, and other pieces

428-451] SCOT! GRAMEIDOS LIB. III.
101
‘ O patriae decus ! O Scotorum maxime ductor,
Grame, (evertendis nomen fatale tyrannis)
Gratior Abriacis nuncquam venit advena castris,
Usque a primaeva nascentis origine mundi;
Sospite quo pulsum sublimi a culmine Regem
Haud metuam, imperii temeratave jura Britanni,
Sceptra nec Albionis, nec regna fatebor lernae
Impia sub Batavi juga succubuisse tyranni.
Atque equidem quia Regis bonus, et publica nostram
Libertas deposcit opem, nos magna secuti
Majorum documenta, damus socialia castra,
Et firmam pro rege fidem; tractusque per omnes
Ardua Grampiacae qua se plaga porrigit orae,
Undique collectos in bella ciemus agrestes.
Jungemus pubemque animis et viribus acrem,
Symbolaque in Regem grati referemus amoris.
Nos et militiam simul et pia signa sequamur
Caesaris, et junctis in publica commoda turmis,
Te duce, mancipii triste hoc enabimus aequor,
Erigida perpetuus condet vel lumina somnus.
O Fergusiadum semper domus ardua regum
Abria, magnorumque altrix animosa virum gens,
Cum prius acer Iber, rueretque in bella Sicamber,
Et ferus Ausoniae populator Vandalus orae,
Graham! (name fatal to tyrants) O glory of your country!
noblest leader of the Scots. Never came to Lochaber since time
began a stranger more pleasing. While you are safe I fear not for
the King, though driven from his throne, nor for the laws of
Britain’s empire, though ruined; nor will I admit that Albion’s
sceptre has fallen, nor yet the Irish kingdom, beneath the Dutch
yoke. Since the honour of the King and the public weal claim
our aid, we, following the manner of our ancestors, shall present a
united front, and offer a fidelity firm to the King. From every
region of the Grampians we shall gather the clansmen, strong in
heart and limb, and declare our loyalty and love, as we follow the
standard of the Caesar. With hands joined for the common good
we shall, with thee for our leader, swim this stormy sea of liberty,
or the everlasting sleep shall close our cold eyelids. O lofty Loch¬
aber, always a home for the Kings of Fergus’ line, already the bold
nurse of great men, before the fierce Iberian and Sygambrian and
savage V an dal, despoilers of the Latian coast, rushed to battle. This