The Pyrenees

Frenchman, hold hard, nor pass beyond that land
That nature fortified with rocky walls,
That Ariège thrusts through with headlong falls,
Land garlanded, most gallant and most grand.
 
What thou seest, passing here, is no high-land;
Rather a mighty Briareus, a giant
Set high to guard this passage, and, defiant,
Spain’s way to France, France’s to Spain command.
 
One arm to France, t’other to Spain is spread;
Upon his crest sits Atlas’ ancient weight;
His feet the two opposing seas betread.
 
The thickets are the thick hairs of his head;
The rocks his bones; the roaring mountain-spate,
The sweat his burthen ever makes him shed.