khazalid wrote:Long quiet she reigned; till thitherward steers
A flight of bold eagles from Adria's strand:
Repeated, successive, for many long years,
They darken'd the air, and they plunder'd the land:
The Anglian lion, the terror of France,
Oft prowling, ensanguin'd the Tweed's silver flood;
But, taught by the bright Caledonian lance,
He learned to fear in his own native wood.
Beautiful.
The people who you describe in the first verse sound like good people, slaying the gutter-monkeys, making good use of land - sounds progressive, well, not progressive within your mind maybe, which might involve battered mars bars and tennats-super, but progressive from an industrial perspective.
The bitter ol' tones, from a forgotten race
drowned by the irish, they drowned their own face
with super tennants lager, battered mars bars and haggis
they may not be that pretty, but they sure wanna shag us.
