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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419564" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Rebel Scot</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">How, Providence? and yet a Scottish crew?<br>Then Madam Nature wears black patches too!<br>What, shall our nation be in bondage thus<br>Unto a land that truckles under us?<br>Ring the bells backward! I am all on fire.<br>Not all the buckets in a country quire<br>Shall quench my rage. A poet should be feared<br>When angry, like a comet's flaming beard.<br>And where's the stoic can his wrath appease,<br>To see his country sick of Pym's disease? <br>By Scotch invasion to be made a prey<br>To such pigwidgeon myrmidons as they?<br>But that there's charm in verse, I would not quote<br>The name of Scot without an antidote;<br>Unless my head were red, that I might brew<br>Invention there that might be poison too.<br>Were I a drowsy judge whose dismal note<br>Disgorgeth halters as a juggler's throat<br>Doth ribbons; could I in Sir Empiric's tone<br>Speak pills in phrase and quack destruction;<br>Or roar like Marshall, that Geneva bull,<br>Hell and damnation a pulpit full; <br>Yet to express a Scot, to play that prize,<br>Not all those mouth-grenadoes can suffice.<br>Before a Scot can properly be curst,<br>I must like Hocus swallow daggers first.<br>Come, keen iambics, with your badger's feet,<br>And badger-like bite till your teeth do meet.<br>Help, ye tart satirists, to imp my rage<br>With all the scorpions that should whip this age.<br>Scots are like witches; do but whet your pen,<br>Scratch till the blood come, they'll not hurt you then.<br>Now, as the martyrs were enforced to take<br>The shape of beasts, like hypocrites at stake,<br>I'll bait my Scot so, yet not cheat your eyes:<br>A Scot within a beast is no disguise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No more let Ireland brag; her harmless nation<br>Fosters no venom since the Scot's plantation;<br>Nor can our feigned antiquity obtain:<br>Since they came in, England hath wolves again.<br>The Scot that kept the Tower might have shown,<br>Within the grate of his own breast alone,<br>The leopard and the panther, and engrossed <br>What all those wild collegiates had cost<br>The honest high-shoes in their termly fees;<br>First to the salvage lawyer, next to these.<br>Nature herself doth Scotchmen beasts confess,<br>Making their country such a wilderness:<br>A land that brings in question and suspense<br>God's omnipresence, but that Charles came thence,<br>But that Montrose and Crawford's loyal band<br>Atoned their sin and christened half their land.<br>Nor is it all the nation hath these sports:<br>There is a Church as well as Kirk of Scots,<br>As in a picture where the squinting paint<br>Shows fiend on this side, and on that side saint.<br>He that saw hell in's melancholy dream<br>And in the twilight of his fancy's theme,<br>Scared from his sins, repented in a fright,<br>Had he viewed Scotland, had turned proselyte.<br>A land where one may pray with curst intent,<br>Oh may they never suffer banishment!<br>Had Cain been Scot, God would have changed his doom:<br>Not forced him wander, but confined him home!<br>Like Jews they spread, and as infection fly,<br>As if the devil had ubiquity.<br>Hence 'tis they live at rovers and defy<br>This or that place, rags of geography.<br>They're citizens of the world; they're all in all;<br>Scotland's a nation epidemical.<br>And yet they ramble not to learn the mode,<br>How to be dressed, or how to lisp abroad;<br>To return knowing in the Spanish shrug,<br>Or which of the Dutch states a double jug<br>Resembles most in belly or in beard<br>(The card by which the mariners are steered). <br>No, the Scots-errant fight and fight to eat;<br>Their ostrich stomachs make their swords their meat.<br>Nature with Scots as tooth-drawers hath dealt,<br>Who use to string their teeth upon their belt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet wonder not at this their happy choice,<br>The serpent's fatal still to Paradise.<br>Sure, England hath the hemorrhoids, and these <br>On the north postern of the patient seize<br>Like leeches; thus they physically thirst <br>After our blood, but in the cure shall burst!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let them not think to make us run o' the score<br>To purchase villenage, as once before<br>Call them good subjects, buy them gingerbread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not gold, nor acts of grace, 'tis steel must tame<br>The stubborn Scot; a prince that would reclaim<br>Rebels by yielding, doth like him, or worse,<br>Who saddled his own back to shame his horse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was it for this you left your leaner soil,<br>Thus to lard Israel with Egypt's spoil?<br>They are the Gospel's life-guard; but for them, <br>The garrison of New Jerusalem,<br>What would the brethren do? The Cause! The Cause!<br>Sack-possets and the fundamental laws!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lord! What a godly thing is want of shirts!<br>How a Scotch stomach and no meat converts!<br>They wanted food and raiment; so they took<br>Religion for their seamstress and their cook.<br>Unmask them well; their honors and estate,<br>As well as conscience, are sophisticate.<br>Shrive but their titles and their moneys poise,<br>A laird and twenty pence pronounced with noise,<br>When contrued, but for a plain yeoman go, <br>And a good sober twopence, and well so. <br>Hence, then, you proud impostors; get you gone,<br>You Picts in gentry and devotion;<br>You scandal to the stock of verse, a race<br>Able to bring the gibbet in disgrace.<br>Hyperbolus by suffering did traduce<br>The ostracism and shamed it out of use.<br>The Indian that Heaven did forswear<br>Because he heard some Spaniards were there,<br>Had he but known what Scots in hell had been, <br>He would, Erasmus-like, have hung between.<br>My Muse hath done. A voider for the nonce,<br>I wrong the devil should I pick their bones.<br>That dish is his; for when the Scots decease,<br>Hell, like their nation, feeds on barnacles.<br>A Scot, when from the gallow-tree got loose,<br>Drops into Styx and turns a solan goose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Cleveland">John Cleveland</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419564" data-title="The Rebel Scot de John Cleveland" data-description="How, Providence? and yet a Scottish crew?
Then Madam Nature wears black patches too!
What, shall our nation be in bondage thus
Unto a land that truckles under us?
Ring the bells backward! I am all on fire.
Not all the buckets in a country quire
Sh..."></div>
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