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The Brus Book X

[Preparations for battle against John of Lorn]
Quhen Thomas Randell on this wis
Wes takyn as Ik her devys
And send to dwell in gud keping
For spek that he spak to the king,
The gud king that thocht on the scaith
The dispyt and felny bath
That Jhone off Lorne had till him doyn
His ost assemblyt he then sone
And towart Lorn he tuk the way
With his men intill gud aray.
Bot Jhone off Lorn off his cummyng
Lang or he come had wittering,
And men on ilk sid gadryt he
I trow twa thousand thai mycht be
And send thaim for to stop the way
Quhar the gud king behovyt away,
And that wes in an evill plas
That sa strayt and sa narow was
That twasum samyn mycht nocht rid

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poem by John Barbour
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The Brus Book III

The lord of Lorn attacks the king's men]

The lord off Lorne wonnyt thar-by
That wes capitale ennymy
To the king for his emys sak
Jhon Comyn, and thocht for to tak
5 Vengeance apon cruell maner.
Quhen he the king wyst wes sa ner
He assemblyt his men in hy,
And had intill his cumpany
The barounys off Argyle alsua.
10 Thai war a thousand weill or ma
And come for to suppris the king
That weill wes war of thar cummyng.
Bot all to few with him he had
The-quhethir he bauldly thaim abaid,
15 And weill ost at thar fryst metyng
War layd at erd but recoveryng.
The kingis folk full weill thaim bar

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poem by John Barbour
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Lorne and Louise

Lines written on the arrival of Governor Lorne and the Princess Louise in Canada.

The tidings now all hearts do please
That she has landed safe-Louise,
Victoria's beloved daughter
Who boldly has crossed the water.
For Royal Princess doth adorn
The title of the Lord of Lorne,
For this union it doth join
Campbell with Royal Stuart line.
Lorne will be Duke of broad Argyle
And the lord of many an isle.
When he inherits broad domain
May he strive tennants' hearts to gain.
To us it seems a brighter morn
Hath dawned on us with Governor Lorne.

poem by James McIntyre
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Too Up, Two Down

Two up two down terrace town, heading far away
Well I just deserted but Ive seen that road before
Two up two down terrace town, roll on salad days
Well Im a mighty lorne greene to mow
Oh oh! better let me grow
Youre bringing me up, holding me down
The looks, the sighs and the frowns
So this time Im on my own!
Its eyes down look in but dont you ever turn back
(back to front in the back to backs) and its no big deal
From a heartless jack
Who keeps cheating the cards
And splitting the deck
Youre bringing me up, holding me down
The looks, the sighs and the frowns
So this time Im on my own!
Just watch me go
Too up too down terrace town, numbing all the senses
Well I just left home but Ive seen that porch before
Well, Im too up too down terrace town, leaning on defences

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song performed by Haircut 100
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The Brus Book XV

The Scots win a great battle at Connor]

Quhen thai within has sene sua slayn
Thar men and chassyt hame agayn
Thai war all wa, and in gret hy
'Till armys!' hely gan thai cry.
5 Than armyt thaim all that thai war
And for the bataill maid thaim yar
Thai ischyt out all wele arayit
Into the bataill baner displayit
Bowne on thar best wis till assaile
10 Thar fayis into fell bataill.
And quhen Schyr Philip the Mowbra
Saw thaim ische in sa gud aray
Till Schyr Edward the Bruys went he
And said, 'Schyr, it is gud that we
15 Schap for sum slycht that may availe
To help us into this bataill.
Our men ar quhoyne, bot thai haf will
To do mar than thai may fulfill,

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poem by John Barbour
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The Brus Book VI

[Sir Ingram Umfraville praises the king;
the men of Galloway pursue him with a tracker dog]

The king is went till his logyng
And off this deid sone come tithing
Till Schyr Ingrame the Umfravill
That thocht his sutelte and gyle
5 Haid al failyeit in that place.
Tharfor anoyit sua he was
That he agayne to Lothyane
Till Schyr Amer his gate has tane
And till him tauld all hale the cas,
10 That tharoff all forwonderyt was
How ony man sa sodanly
Mycht do so gret chevalry
As did the king that him allane
Vengeance off thre traytouris has tane,
15 And said, 'Certis, I may weill se
That it is all certante
That ure helpys hardy men

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poem by John Barbour
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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.

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poem by Anonymous Olde English
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You can tell a lot from someone's eyes.

quote by Lorne Michaels
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It's better when they laugh, isn't it?

quote by Lorne Michaels
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Could I get a friggin' Hot Pocket around here?

quote by Lorne Michaels
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