What I Have To Say Is Far

O Caledonia! Stern And Wild, Meet Nurse For A Poetic Child! Land Of Brown Heath And Shaggy Wood; Land Of The Mountain And The Flood!

Credit Is Like A Looking-glass, Which When Once Sullied By A Breath, May Be Wiped Clear Again; But If Once Cracked Can Never Be Repaired.

I Am She, O Most Bucolical Juvenal, Under Whose Charge Are Placed The Milky Mothers Of The Herd.

Welcome As The Flowers In May.

Contentions Fierce, Ardent, And Dire, Spring From No Petty Cause.