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I see myself on the cover of a magazine and I don't think that it looks like me at all. My first-ever photo shoot was for the cover of a lads' magazine.

quote by Elize Du Toit
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shoot To Thrill

All you women who want a man of the street
But you dont know which way you wanna turn
Just keep a coming and put your hand out to me
cause Im the one whos gonna make you burn
Im gonna take you down - down, down, down
So dont you fool around
Im gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
Yeah
Im like evil, I get under your skin
Just like a bomb thats ready to blow
cause Im illegal, I got everything
That all you women might need to know
Im gonna take you down - yeah, down, down, down
So dont you fool around
Im gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
cause I shoot to thrill, and Im ready to kill
I cant get enough, I cant get the thrill
I shoot to thrill, play to kill
Yeah, pull the trigger
Pull it, pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Oh
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women, with too many pills
I said, shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
cause I shoot to thrill, and Im ready to kill
And I cant get enough, and I cant get my thrill
cause I shoot to thrill, play it again
Yeah
Shoot you down
Yeah
Im gonna get you to the bottom and shoot you
Im gonna shoot you
Oh hoo yeah yeah yeah
Im gonna shoot you down yeah yeah
Im gonna get you down
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Shoot you, shoot you, shoot you, shoot you down
Shoot you, shoot you, shoot you down
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooooh
Im gonna shoot to thrill
Play to kill

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song performed by AC-DC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stiff Upper Lip

(young - young)
Well I was out on a drive
On a bit of a trip
Lookin for thrills
To get me some kicks
Now I warn you ladies
I shoot from the hip
I was born with a stiff
Stiff upper lip
Like a dog in a howl
I bite everything
And Im big and Im drawl
And Ill ball your thing
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot from the hip
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot
And I shoot
Shoot from the hip
Yeah I shoot from the hip
Now listen
Well Im workin it out
And Ive done everything
And I cant reform no
Can you feel my sting
Babe I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot from the hip, yeah
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot
And I shoot
And I shoot, shoot, shoot
Shoot from the hip
Well Im out on the prowl
And Ill ball your thing
I got the teeth thatll bite you
Can you feel my sting
Babe I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot from the hip
I keep a stiff upper lip
And I shoot shoot shoot from the hip
I got a (stiff upper lip)
Better believe me (stiff upper lip)
Comin down (stiff upper lip)
See my (stiff upper lip)
Yeah I got a (stiff upper lip)
Stiff upper lip
Stiff upper lip
I got a stiff upper lip
I got a stiff upper lip
Stiff upper lip

[...] Read more

song performed by AC-DC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Photos of War

Photo of War - 1

no milk for her
child the nipple
droops a sad
thing while dogs
run wildly about

Photo of War - 2

Geese tell of return

the burning village
counts its embers
measured in hands

Photo of War - 3

there are treaties

generals

prisoners and
gilded boxes
exchanged

then the
Mongol spices

Photo of War - 4

boys
muddy feet

cheer
chase behind
battalions
innocent fists
raising threat

for them
such regrettable
punctuation

Photo of War - 5

[...] Read more

poem by Warren Falcon
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Dont Shoot Shotgun

Run
(run for cover)
For for cover
Dont shoot!
Shoot!
Shes so dangerous
(shotgun!)
(gun!)
(dont shoot shotgun!)
Maybe Im wrong, maybe Im right
Fallin head over heals at the speed of light
Hey little miss heaven on earth
Whoa, wont you walk this way but I see a red alert
Oh, my senses say keep away
So dont shoot!
Dont shoot shotgun
Dream on nightmare
Touch n go
Dove turned destroyer, she cut you up, shes a slave of love
Run for cover, shes so dangerous
Undercover, shes so shameless
Dont shoot shotgun
You got me bitin my lip
Dont shoot shotgun!
Ya shootin straight from the hip
So dont shoot shotgun
Shoot me, baby!
Ow!
Hit n miss, flesh and blood
Shes sweet and indiscreet, she cant get enough
A little midnight madness
Oh baby, you cant hide
So wild n unpredictable
Step aside
cos youre, youre shooting wide
Oh
Shake it, shake it!
Ah, take this, little hit n miss
Oh
Dont shoot shotgun
You got me bitin my lip
Dont shoot shotgun!
Ya shootin straight from the hip
Dont shoot it!
Dont shoot shotgun!
Shake it, shake it!
Aw, take this little hit n miss
Ow!
(dont shoot! shotgun!)
Oh shoot it!

[...] Read more

song performed by Def Leppard
Added by Lucian Velea
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All Lost.

Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Type photo caption, save, no show, all lost, anger!
Stress!

PB

(C) Yorkshire, Sunday 11th October at 21.58.

poem by Paul Butters
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Salut Au Monde

O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman!
Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
Such join'd unended links, each hook'd to the next!
Each answering all--each sharing the earth with all.

What widens within you, Walt Whitman?
What waves and soils exuding?
What climes? what persons and lands are here?
Who are the infants? some playing, some slumbering?
Who are the girls? who are the married women?
Who are the groups of old men going slowly with their arms about each
other's necks?
What rivers are these? what forests and fruits are these?
What are the mountains call'd that rise so high in the mists?
What myriads of dwellings are they, fill'd with dwellers?

Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens;
Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east--America is provided for in the
west;
Banding the bulge of the earth winds the hot equator,
Curiously north and south turn the axis-ends;
Within me is the longest day--the sun wheels in slanting rings--it
does not set for months;
Stretch'd in due time within me the midnight sun just rises above the
horizon, and sinks again;
Within me zones, seas, cataracts, plants, volcanoes, groups,
Malaysia, Polynesia, and the great West Indian islands.

What do you hear, Walt Whitman?

I hear the workman singing, and the farmer's wife singing;
I hear in the distance the sounds of children, and of animals early
in the day;
I hear quick rifle-cracks from the riflemen of East Tennessee and
Kentucky, hunting on hills;
I hear emulous shouts of Australians, pursuing the wild horse;
I hear the Spanish dance, with castanets, in the chestnut shade, to
the rebeck and guitar;
I hear continual echoes from the Thames;
I hear fierce French liberty songs;
I hear of the Italian boat-sculler the musical recitative of old
poems;
I hear the Virginia plantation-chorus of negroes, of a harvest night,
in the glare of pine-knots;
I hear the strong baritone of the 'long-shore-men of Mannahatta;
I hear the stevedores unlading the cargoes, and singing;
I hear the screams of the water-fowl of solitary north-west lakes;
I hear the rustling pattering of locusts, as they strike the grain
and grass with the showers of their terrible clouds;
I hear the Coptic refrain, toward sundown, pensively falling on the

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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Shoot High Aim Low

We hit the blue fields
In the blue sedan we didnt get much further
Just as the sun was rising in the mist
We were all alone we didnt need much more
So fast this expidition
So vast this heavy load
With a touch of luck and a sense of need
Seeing the guns and their faces
We look around the open shore
Waiting for something
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
This was to be our last ride
With the steel guitar and the love you give me
Underneath the skin a feeling, a breakdown
Well we sat for hours on the crimson sand
Exchanges in the currency of humans bought and sold
And the leaders seem to lose control
Shall we lose ourselves for a reason
Shall we burn ourselves for the answer
Have we found the place that were looking for
Someone shouted open the door
Lookout
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Feeling of imagination
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
Shoot high aim low
Nothing you can say
Shoot high let go
Takes me by surprise
Shoot high aim low
Who sayss theres got to be a reason
Shoot high let go
Who says theres got to be an answer
We were all alone, we didnt need much more
Shoot high aim low
The suns so hard on this endless highway
Shoot high let go
Shoot high aim low
Ive heard the singers, who sing of love
Shoot high let go
In the blue sedan we never got much further
Shoot high aim low

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shoot High Aim Low

We hit the blue fields
In the blue sedan we didnt get much further
Just as the sun was rising in the mist
We were all alone we didnt need much more
So fast this expidition
So vast this heavy load
With a touch of luck and a sense of need
Seeing the guns and their faces
We look around the open shore
Waiting for something
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
This was to be our last ride
With the steel guitar and the love you give me
Underneath the skin a feeling, a breakdown
Well we sat for hours on the crimson sand
Exchanges in the currency of humans bought and sold
And the leaders seem to lose control
Shall we lose ourselves for a reason
Shall we burn ourselves for the answer
Have we found the place that were looking for
Someone shouted open the door
Lookout
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Feeling of imagination
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
Shoot high aim low
Nothing you can say
Shoot high let go
Takes me by surprise
Shoot high aim low
Who sayss theres got to be a reason
Shoot high let go
Who says theres got to be an answer
We were all alone, we didnt need much more
Shoot high aim low
The suns so hard on this endless highway
Shoot high let go
Shoot high aim low
Ive heard the singers, who sing of love
Shoot high let go
In the blue sedan we never got much further
Shoot high aim low

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXXVI: Cover

We cover bitterness with satyr
We cover sadness with smile
We cover happiness with tears
We cover pride with stubbornness
We cover anger with jokes
We cover grudge with loyalty
We cover love with play
We cover lust with generosity
We cover sorrow with toughness
We cover ambition with hard work
We cover hope with pessimism
We cover fear with deniable
We cover dream with horror
We cover shame with sarcasm
We cover lone with rebellion
We cover clueless with boasting
We cover ignorance with invisibility
We cover truth with shadow
We cover trouble with distraction
We cover envy with humiliation
We cover lie with innocence

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Come Together

One, two, three, four!!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
Here come old flat top,
He come growing up slowly,
He got jo jo eyeball,
He one holy roller,
He got hair down to his knee.
Got to be a joker, he just do what he please.
Shoot me!!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
He wear no shoeshine,
He got monkey fingers,
He got hairy arsehole,
He one holy roller,
He say, "i know you, you know me.
One thing i can tell you is you got to be free."
Come together,
Right now,
Over me.
He bag production,
He got walrus gumboot,
He ono sideboard,
He one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knees
Hold you in his armchair, you can feel his disease.
Come together,
Right now,
Over you.
(shoot!)
(shoot!)
(shoot!)
Ow!
(shoot!)
He roller coaster,
He got early warning,
He got muddy water,
He one mojo filter,
He say, "one and one and one is three."
Got to be good looking, he's so hard to see.
Come together,
Right now,
Stop the war!
(shoot)
(shoot)
Come together,
Come together,
Come together, right!

[...] Read more

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Come Together

One, two, three, four!!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
Here come old flat top,
He come growing up slowly,
He got jo jo eyeball,
He one holy roller,
He got hair down to his knee.
Got to be a joker, he just do what he please.
Shoot me!!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
Shoot me!
He wear no shoeshine,
He got monkey fingers,
He got hairy arsehole,
He one holy roller,
He say, "i know you, you know me.
One thing i can tell you is you got to be free."
Come together,
Right now,
Over me.
He bag production,
He got walrus gumboot,
He ono sideboard,
He one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knees
Hold you in his armchair, you can feel his disease.
Come together,
Right now,
Over you.
(shoot!)
(shoot!)
(shoot!)
Ow!
(shoot!)
He roller coaster,
He got early warning,
He got muddy water,
He one mojo filter,
He say, "one and one and one is three."
Got to be good looking, he's so hard to see.
Come together,
Right now,
Stop the war!
(shoot)
(shoot)
Come together,
Come together,
Come together, right!

[...] Read more

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Libelle of Englyshe Polycye

Here beginneth the Prologe of the processe of the Libelle of Englyshe polycye, exhortynge alle Englande to kepe the see enviroun and namelye the narowe see, shewynge whate profete commeth thereof and also whate worshype and salvacione to Englande and to alle Englyshe menne.

The trewe processe of Englysh polycye
Of utterwarde to kepe thys regne in rest
Of oure England, that no man may denye
Ner say of soth but it is one the best,
Is thys, as who seith, south, north, est and west
Cheryshe marchandyse, kepe thamyralte,
That we bee maysteres of the narowe see.

For Sigesmonde the grete Emperoure,
Whyche yet regneth, whan he was in this londe
Wyth kynge Herry the vte, prince of honoure,
Here moche glorye, as hym thought, he founde,
A myghty londe, whyche hadde take on honde
To werre in Fraunce and make mortalite,
And ever well kept rounde aboute the see.

And to the kynge thus he seyde, 'My brothere',
Whan he perceyved too townes, Calys and Dovere,
'Of alle youre townes to chese of one and other
To kepe the see and sone for to come overe,
To werre oughtwardes and youre regne to recovere,
Kepe these too townes sure to youre mageste
As youre tweyne eyne to kepe the narowe see'.

For if this see be kepte in tyme of werre,
Who cane here passe withought daunger and woo?
Who may eschape, who may myschef dyfferre?
What marchaundy may forby be agoo?
For nedes hem muste take truse every foo,
Flaundres and Spayne and othere, trust to me,
Or ellis hyndered alle for thys narowe see.

Therfore I caste me by a lytell wrytinge
To shewe att eye thys conclusione,
For concyens and for myne acquytynge
Ayenst God, and ageyne abusyon
And cowardyse and to oure enmyes confusione;
For iiij. thynges oure noble sheueth to me,
Kyng, shype and swerde and pouer of the see.

Where bene oure shippes, where bene oure swerdes become?
Owre enmyes bid for the shippe sette a shepe.
Allas, oure reule halteth, hit is benome.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Hallo Spaceboy

Spaceboy, youre sleepy no
Your silhouette is so stationary
Youre released but your custody calls
And I want to be free
Dont you want to be free
Do you like girls or boys
Its confusing these days
But moondust will cover you
Cover you
This chaos is killing me
So bye bye love
Yeah bye bye love
Bye bye love
Yeah bye bye love
This chaos is killing me
Hallo spaceboy
Youre sleepy now
Youre silhouette
So stationary
Youre released but your custody calls
And I want to be free
Dont you want to be free
Do you like girls or boys
Its confusing these days
But moondust will cover you
Cover you
And the chaos is killing me
Yeah bye bye love
So bye bye love
Yeah bye bye love
So bye bye love
This chaos is killing me
Moondust
Will cover you
This chaos is killing me
Moondust
Will cover you
Yeah bye bye love
Moondust
Will cover you
Bye bye love
Moondust
Will cover you
Good time love
Moondust
Moondust
Will cover you
Sweet sweet love
Moondust
Moondust

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hallo Space Boy (Pet Shop Boys Remix)

Spaceboy, you're sleepy no
Your silhouette is so stationary
You're released but your custody calls
And I want to be free
Don't you want to be free
Do you like girls or boys
It's confusing these days
But Moondust will cover you
Cover you
This chaos is Killing me
So bye bye love
Yeah bye bye love
Bye bye love
Yeah bye bye love
This chaos is killing me
Hallo spaceboy
You're sleepy now
You're silhouette
So stationary
You're released but your custody calls
And I want to be free
Don't you want to be free
Do you like girls or boys
It's confusing these days
But Moondust will cover you
Cover you
And the chaos is killing me
Yeah bye bye love
So bye bye love
Yeah bye bye love
So bye bye love
This chaos is killing me
Moondust
will cover you
This chaos is killing me
Moondust
Will cover you
Yeah bye bye love
Moondust
Will cover you
Bye bye love
Moondust
Will cover you
Good time love
Moondust
Moondust
Will cover you
Sweet sweet love
Moondust
Moondust

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
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Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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There's No Photo Finish Needed

There's no photo finish needed,
For the one...
Who has succeeded.
For the one...
Undefeated.
For the one...
Who has completed,
Passing tests with peace of mind.
And doing this from time to time.

There's no photo finish needed,
For the one...
Who has succeeded.
For the one...
Undefeated.
For the one...
Who has completed,
Passing tests with peace of mind.
And doing this from time to time.

Standing tall from a crawling done...
And doing this from time to time.
Walking while some others run.
And doing this from time to time,
Unsure what doing this would find.

There's no photo finish needed,
For the one...
Who has succeeded.
For the one...
Undefeated.
For the one...
Who has completed,
Passing tests with peace of mind.
And doing this from time to time.
Unsure what doing this would find.
While others rush to a finish line.

There's no photo finish needed,
For the one...
Who has succeeded.

There's no photo finish needed,
For the one...
Undefeated.

There's no photo finish needed,
For the one...
Who has completed,
Passing tests with peace of mind.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jean Desprez

Oh ye whose hearts are resonant, and ring to War's romance,
Hear ye the story of a boy, a peasant boy of France;
A lad uncouth and warped with toil, yet who, when trial came,
Could feel within his soul upleap and soar the sacred flame;
Could stand upright, and scorn and smite, as only heroes may:
Oh, harken! Let me try to tell the tale of Jean Desprez.

With fire and sword the Teuton horde was ravaging the land,
And there was darkness and despair, grim death on every hand;
Red fields of slaughter sloping down to ruin's black abyss;
The wolves of war ran evil-fanged, and little did they miss.
And on they came with fear and flame, to burn and loot and slay,
Until they reached the red-roofed croft, the home of Jean Desprez.

"Rout out the village, one and all!" the Uhlan Captain said.
"Behold! Some hand has fired a shot. My trumpeter is dead.
Now shall they Prussian vengeance know; now shall they rue the day,
For by this sacred German slain, ten of these dogs shall pay."
They drove the cowering peasants forth, women and babes and men,
And from the last, with many a jeer, the Captain chose he ten;
Ten simple peasants, bowed with toil; they stood, they knew not why,
Against the grey wall of the church, hearing their children cry;
Hearing their wives and mothers wail, with faces dazed they stood.
A moment only. . . . Ready! Fire! They weltered in their blood.

But there was one who gazed unseen, who heard the frenzied cries,
Who saw these men in sabots fall before their children's eyes;
A Zouave wounded in a ditch, and knowing death was nigh,
He laughed with joy: "Ah! here is where I settle ere I die."
He clutched his rifle once again, and long he aimed and well. . . .
A shot! Beside his victims ten the Uhlan Captain fell.

They dragged the wounded Zouave out; their rage was like a flame.
With bayonets they pinned him down, until their Major came.
A blonde, full-blooded man he was, and arrogant of eye;
He stared to see with shattered skull his favourite Captain lie.
"Nay, do not finish him so quick, this foreign swine," he cried;
"Go nail him to the big church door: he shall be crucified."

With bayonets through hands and feet they nailed the Zouave there,
And there was anguish in his eyes, and horror in his stare;
"Water! A single drop!" he moaned; but how they jeered at him,
And mocked him with an empty cup, and saw his sight grow dim;
And as in agony of death with blood his lips were wet,
The Prussian Major gaily laughed, and lit a cigarette.

But mid the white-faced villagers who cowered in horror by,
Was one who saw the woeful sight, who heard the woeful cry:
"Water! One little drop, I beg! For love of Christ who died. . . ."
It was the little Jean Desprez who turned and stole aside;

[...] Read more

poem by Robert William Service
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The Scout Toward Aldie

The cavalry-camp lies on the slope
Of what was late a vernal hill,
But now like a pavement bare-
An outpost in the perilous wilds
Which ever are lone and still;
But Mosby's men are there -
Of Mosby best beware.

Great trees the troopers felled, and leaned
In antlered walls about their tents;
Strict watch they kept; 'twas Hark! and Mark!
Unarmed none cared to stir abroad
For berries beyond their forest-fence:
As glides in seas the shark,
Rides Mosby through green dark.

All spake of him, but few had seen
Except the maimed ones or the low;
Yet rumor made him every thing-
A farmer-woodman-refugee-
The man who crossed the field but now;
A spell about his life did cling -
Who to the ground shall Mosby bring?

The morning-bugles lonely play,
Lonely the evening-bugle calls -
Unanswered voices in the wild;
The settled hush of birds in nest
Becharms, and all the wood enthralls:
Memory's self is so beguiled
That Mosby seems a satyr's child.

They lived as in the Eerie Land-
The fire-flies showed with fairy gleam;
And yet from pine-tops one might ken
The Capitol dome-hazy-sublime-
A vision breaking on a dream:
So strange it was that Mosby's men
Should dare to prowl where the Dome was seen.

A scout toward Aldie broke the spell. -
The Leader lies before his tent
Gazing at heaven's all-cheering lamp
Through blandness of a morning rare;
His thoughts on bitter-sweets are bent:
His sunny bride is in the camp -
But Mosby - graves are beds of damp!

The trumpet calls; he goes within;
But none the prayer and sob may know:

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poem by Herman Melville
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Auld Maitland

There lived a king in southern land,
King Edward hight his name;
Unwordily he wore the crown,
Till fifty years were gane.

He had a sister's son o's ain,
Was large of blood and bane;
And afterward, when he came up,
Young Edward hight his name.

One day he came before the king,
And kneel'd low on his knee:
'A boon, a boon, my good uncle,
I crave to ask of thee!

'At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,
I fain ha'e wish'd to be,
If fifteen hundred waled wight men
You'll grant to ride with me.'

'Thou shall ha'e thae, thou shall ha'e mae;
I say it sickerlie;
And I myself, an auld gray man,
Array'd your host shall see.'

King Edward rade, King Edward ran--
I wish him dool and pyne!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.

And thrice as many at Berwicke
Were all for battle bound,
[Who, marching forth with false Dunbar,
A ready welcome found.]

They lighted on the banks of Tweed,
And blew their coals sae het,
And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,
All in an evening late.

As they fared up o'er Lammermoor,
They burn'd baith up and down,
Until they came to a darksome house,
Some call it Leader-Town.

'Wha hauds this house?' young Edward cried,
'Or wha gi'est o'er to me?'
A gray-hair'd knight set up his head,
And crackit right crousely:

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poem by Andrew Lang
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Soccer Under 20

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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