Paroles de Boudicca

When the British warrior queen Bleeding from the Roman rods Sought with an indignant mien Counsel of her country's gods Sage beneath a spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief Every burning word he spoke Full of hate and full of grief 'Princess, if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchless wrongs 'Tis because resentment ties All the terror of our tongues Rome shall perish - write that word In the blood that she has spilt Perish hopeless and abhorred Deep in ruin as in guilt How sweet it is for fatherland to die! True Virtue opens heaven to worth She makes the way, she does not find The vulgar crowd, the humid earth Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori