And here, I know, ’twas once conceal’d;
A simple—that can nerve the weak,
And prowess to the fearful yield.
Blest Freedom flourish’d in this wild,
When banish’d from each cultur’d spot:
Expiring Albin saw, and smil’d,
And all her wounds and woes forgot.
And still the rugged rock, fair plant,
Hath been thy lov’d, thy native soil;
Remote from Luxury’s deadly haunt,