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Isle of Dogs [Okay It's Worth It]

Cast: Bob Balaban (voice), Jeff Goldblum (voice), Bill Murray (voice), Liev Schreiber (voice), Edward Norton (voice), Koyu Rankin (voice), Bryan Cranston (voice)

clip from Isle of Dogs, directed by Wes Anderson, screenplay by Wes Anderson (2018)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Top Rankin

They dont want to see us unite:
All they want us to do is keep on fussing and fighting.
They dont want to see us live together:
All they want us to do is keep on killing one another.
Top rankin, top rankin:
Are you skankin (skankin, skankin)?
Are you skankin (skankin, skankin)?
Wo-ho, top rankin (top rankin), ow, did you mean what you say now?
Are you - ow are you (rankin, rankin) -
Are ya - lord, lord, lord! (skankin, skankin)?
They say the blood runs;
And it runs through our line,
And our hearts, heart of hearts divine, eh!
And john saw them comin, ooh! - a-with the truth
From an ancient time.
The brotherly love (brotherly love), the sisterly love (sisterly love)
I feel this morning; I feel this morning:
Brotherly love (brotherly love), the sisterly love (sisterly love)
I feel this morning, this morning. hey!
They dont want us to unite:
All they want us to do is keep on fussing and fighting.
They dont want to see us live together;
All they want us to do is keep on killing one another.
Top rankin (top rankin)!
Did ya mean what you say now (top rankin)?
Are you skankin (skankin, skankin)?
Are you skankin (skankin, skankin)?
Top rankin (top ranking),
Did you (top rankin) mean what you say (top rankin)?
Are you (rankin, rankin)?
Are you (skankin, skankin)?
Top rankin (top rankin);
Top rankin (top rankin);
Are you (skankin, skankin)?
ow are you (skankin, skankin)? /fadeout/

song performed by Bob Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Edward, Edward. A Scottish Ballad

MODERN TRANSLATION (original below)

'Why does your sword so drip with blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your sword so drip with blood?
And why so sad are ye, O?'
'O, I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother, mother:
O I have killed my hawk so good:
And I had no more but he, O.'

'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward:
Your hawk’s blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That once was so fair and free, O.'

'Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Edward, Edward:
Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Some other evil ye fear, O.'
'O, I have killed my father dear,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my father dear,
Alas! and woe is me, O!'

'And what penance will ye suffer for that,
Edward, Edward?
And what penance will ye suffer for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mother, mother:
I’ll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I’ll fare over the sea, O.'

'And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
That were sae fair to see, O?'
'I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
Mother, mother:
I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
For here never more may I be, O.'

'And what will ye leave to your children and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your children and your wife

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan

I

In a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,
There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things to shout about,
And knock your old blue devils out.

I brag and chant of Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan,
Candidate for president who sketched a silver Zion,
The one American Poet who could sing outdoors,
He brought in tides of wonder, of unprecedented splendor,
Wild roses from the plains, that made hearts tender,
All the funny circus silks
Of politics unfurled,
Bartlett pears of romance that were honey at the cores,
And torchlights down the street, to the end of the world.

There were truths eternal in the gap and tittle-tattle.
There were real heads broken in the fustian and the rattle.
There were real lines drawn:
Not the silver and the gold,
But Nebraska's cry went eastward against the dour and old,
The mean and cold.

It was eighteen ninety-six, and I was just sixteen
And Altgeld ruled in Springfield, Illinois,
When there came from the sunset Nebraska's shout of joy:
In a coat like a deacon, in a black Stetson hat
He scourged the elephant plutocrats
With barbed wire from the Platte.
The scales dropped from their mighty eyes.
They saw that summer's noon
A tribe of wonders coming
To a marching tune.

Oh the longhorns from Texas,
The jay hawks from Kansas,
The plop-eyed bungaroo and giant giassicus,
The varmint, chipmunk, bugaboo,
The horn-toad, prairie-dog and ballyhoo,
From all the newborn states arow,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on.
The fawn, prodactyl, and thing-a-ma-jig,
The rackaboor, the hellangone,
The whangdoodle, batfowl and pig,
The coyote, wild-cat and grizzly in a glow,
In a miracle of health and speed, the whole breed abreast,
The leaped the Mississippi, blue border of the West,
From the Gulf to Canada, two thousand miles long:-
Against the towns of Tubal Cain,

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Nightmare On My Street

Artist: dj jazzy jeff & the fresh prince
Now I have a story that Id like to tell
About this guy you all know he had me scared as hell
He comes to me at night after I crawl into bed
Hes burnt up like a weenie and his name is fred
He wears the same hat and sweater every single day
And even if its hot outside he wears it anyway
Hes home when Im awake but he shows up when I sleep
I cant believe that theres a nightmare on my street
It was a saturday evening if I remember it right
And we had just gotten back off tour last night
So the gang and I thought that it would be groovey
If we summoned up the posse and done rushed the movie
I got angie
Jeff got tina
Ready rock got some girl Id never seen in my life
That was all right because the lady was chill
Then we dipped to the theater set to ill
We saw elm street and man it was def
And everything seemed all right when we left
But when I got home and laid down to sleep
That began the nightmare, but on my street
It was burning in my room like an oven
My bed soaked with sweat
And man I was bugging
I checked the clock and it stopped at 12:30
It had melted it was so darn hot
And I was thirsty
I went downstairs to grab some juice or a coke
Flipped the tv off, and then I almost choked
When I heard this awful voice coming from behind
It said, you got my favorite letter but now you must die
Man, I aint even wait to see who it was
Broke inside my drawers and screamed, so long, cuz
Got halfway up the block
I calmed down and stopped screaming
Then thought, oh, I get it, I must be dreaming
I strolled back home with a grin on my grill
I think that since this is a dream I might as well get ill
I walked in the house, the big bad fresh prince
But freddy killed all that noise real quick
He grabbed me by my neck and said
Heres what well do
We gotta lotta work here, me and you
The souls of your friends you and I will claim
Youve got the body and Ive got the brain
I said, yo fred
I think you got me all wrong
I aint partners with nobody with nails that long
Look, Ill be honest man, this team wont work

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Brand New Funk

Artist: dj jazzy jeff and the fresh prince
[fresh prince]
Its new, its out of the ordinary
Its rather extrordinary, so yo bust this commentary
A literary, genius, and a superior beat creator
Have come together, and we made a
Musical composition which we think is a remedy
To cure all the dance floors thats empty
You wanna dance? we got what you want
Jazzy jeff and fresh prince bustin out with the brand new funk
It was kind of an accident, the way that it happened
One day I was rappin, and on the beat, jeff was backin me up
And all of a sudden, he brought in a cut
And I dropped my microphone and said, what the...?
Hold up, jeff, wait a minute, play it
He just smiled and said, yeah def aint it?
It was {funky} it made wanna {get, get down!}
And we knew almost at once it was the {brand new funk}
So we continued to listen to it
And we knew it was def when I started rappin to it
So I gave a hi-five to jeff
And without hesitation popped in my cassette
I took it home that night, and analyzed it
Rewound the tape over and over, and memorized it
That friday, we went to the club
And out and out cold tore it up!
You shoulda seen the people dancin and shakin and movin and jumpin
And spinnin and clappin, while the beatboxin was groovin
And screamin and yellin while on the microphone I was flowin
Fresh rhymes I was showin, the people say, yo keep goin
So I continued to rock, while jeff was on the beatbox
Special assistance from my homeboy ready rock
People barged just to get up front
To get a birds eye view of what we call the brand new funk
Yo jeff! {rock the beat}
Yo jeff! {rock the beat}
Yo jeff! {rock the beat}
* jazzy jeff cuts and scratches *
Yo jeff! {rock the beat}
Yo jeff! {rock the beat}
Yo jeff! {rock the beat with your hands..}
* jazzy jeff cuts and scratches *
Now get funky with the beat!
* jeff starts spinning backwards *
Now turn it all around!
The most original, amazing, astounding, miraculous
Remarkable, startling, sensational, stupendous
Music, that has ever been created
Is ours - but believe me it was complicated
But we have done it, so now we can breathe

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Railroad Bill

Railroad bill were gonna railroad bill
He never works and he never will
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Railroad bill he was a mighty bad man
Kill anybody that he think he can
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Im singin railroad bill,
Im talkin railroad bill, uh-huh-huh
He never worked and he never will
Im gonna ride on railroad bill, yeah
(cmon) Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Well old railroad bill he done stole my wife
Im gonna check him down Im gonna take his life
Gonna ride on railroad bill
Gonna ride railroad bill
Im singin railroad bill
On a railroad bill
He never worked and he never will
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Im gonna ride on railroad bill
Railroad bill he was a mighty bad man
Kill anybody that he think he can
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride railroad bill
Im talkin railroad bill
I love him railroad bill
Uh-huh-huh
He never worked and he never will
Gonna ride on railroad bill
Yeah, gonna ride on railroad bill
Well Im goin up the mountain
Yes Im goin out west
I got a mighty big pistol
Stickin out of my vest
Gonna ride old railroad bill
Gonna ride (alright)
Railroad bill, I love that railroad bill
Uh-huh-huh
He never works and he never will
Im gonna ride on a railroad bill
Im gonna ride on railroad bill

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pump Up The Bass

Artist: dj jazzy jeff and the fresh prince
[fresh prince]
In the place to be
Dj jazzy jeff and yours truly the fresh prince
Ay jeff, do me a favor, give em just a lil touch of the bass
Not a lot, just a lil touch jeff
Word word
Ay jeff do me a favor man, jazz it up
Now bring it all back
Yo man now break it down and let me go for mine
When I first started out, jeff used to come to my house
Just as soon as school let out, he used to
Come to my crib, and you know what we did?
We bugged out like two little kids, word
Jeff on the wheels, and me on the m.i.c.
A better combination there could never be
So lets go back, for old times sake
Yo jeff! (what? ) pump up the bass!
I . like . my . music . loud!
The volume, pumpin, the kickdrum thumpin
The people jumpin, up out there seats
When this record comes on, you think somethings wrong
The bass is too strong
You dont have to check your record, its not defective
Its just the way we wanted it, pump it, get it?
We like it loud, strong like a magnum force
I am the lyricist, jeff is the rhythm source
This combination, is virtually omnipotent
That means invincible, you know, dominant
So dont you cross our path, just stay out our face
Or well knock you down, pump up the bass!
Yo jeff man, how bout a funky scratch
Now get funky with it
Now bring in the snare
Now break it down and bring it all back to me
Now pump up the bass!
Im hyped -- psyched up
And Im flowin, so come on lets go in
To the next segment, of this hip-hop fantasy
You say this cant be happening, why cant it be?
Its an equation, mathematically correct
Its jeff + prince, equals, hit records
Sounds too easy? word, I know it does
You wanna know why? well yo its cause
Me and jeff, oh, jeff and i, excuse me
Blend like kool-aid, and flow like an uzi
Thats why we cant be taken or broken or braken, whatever
And if you think we can, youre mistaken, were clever
Cause all we did to make this record a hit
Was turn down the treble, pump up the bass kit

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Brus Book 18

[Edward Bruce marches toward Dundalk; he debates whether to fight]

Bot he that rest anoyit ay
And wald in travaill be alway,
A day forouth thar aryving
That war send till him fra the king,
5 He tuk his way southwart to far
Magre thaim all that with him war,
For he had nocht than in that land
Of all men I trow twa thousand,
Outane the kingis off Irchery
10 That in gret routis raid him by.
Towart Dundalk he tuk the way,
And quhen Richard of Clar hard say
That he come with sa few menye
All that he mycht assemblit he
15 Off all Irland off armyt men,
Sua that he had thar with him then
Off trappyt hors twenty thousand
But thai that war on fute gangand,
And held furth northward on his way.
20 And quhen Schyr Edward has hard say
That cummyn ner till him wes he
He send discouriouris him to se,
The Soullis and the Stewart war thai
And Schyr Philip the Mowbray,
25 And quhen thai sene had thar cummyng
Thai went agayne to tell tithing,
And said weill thai war mony men.
In hy Schyr Edward answerd then
And said that he suld fecht that day
30 Thoucht tribill and quatribill war thai.
Schyr Jhone Stewart said, 'Sekyrly
I reid nocht ye fecht on sic hy,
Men sayis my brother is cummand
With fyften thousand men ner-hand,
35 And war thai knyt with you ye mycht
The traistlyer abid to fycht.'
Schyr Edward lukyt all angrely
And till the Soullis said in hy,
'Quhat sayis thou?' 'Schyr,' he said, 'Perfay
40 As my falow has said I say.'
And than to Schyr Philip said he.
'Schyr,' said he, 'sa our Lord me se
Me think na foly for to bid
Your men that spedis thaim to rid,
45 For we ar few, our fayis ar fele,
God may rycht weill our werdis dele,
Bot it war wondre that our mycht
Suld our-cum sa fele in fycht.'

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
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The Brus Book XIV

[Edward Bruce goes to Ireland]

The erle off Carrik Schyr Edward,
That stoutar wes than a libard
And had na will to be in pes,
Thocht that Scotland to litill wes
5 Till his brother and him alsua,
Tharfor to purpos gan he ta
That he off Irland wald be king.
Tharfor he send and had tretyng
With the Irschery off Irland,
10 That in thar leawte tuk on hand
Off all Irland to mak him king
With-thi that he with hard fechting
Mycht ourcum the Inglismen
That in the land war wonnand then,
15 And thai suld help with all thar mycht.
And he that hard thaim mak sic hycht
Intill his hart had gret liking
And with the consent of the king
Gadryt him men off gret bounte
20 And at Ayr syne schippyt he
Intill the neyst moneth of Mai,
Till Irland held he straucht his wai.
He had thar in his cumpany
The Erle Thomas that wes worthi
25 And gud Schyr Philip the Mowbray
That sekyr wes in hard assay,
Schyr Jhone the soullis ane gud knycht
And Schyr Jhone Stewart that wes wycht
The Ramsay als of Ouchterhous
30 That wes wycht and chevalrous
And Schyr Fergus off Ardrossane
And other knychtis mony ane.
In Wolringis Fyrth aryvyt thai
Sauffly but bargan or assay
35 And send thar schippis hame ilkan.
A gret thing have thai undretane
That with sa quhoyne as thai war thar
That war sex thousand men but mar
Schup to werray all Irland,
40 Quhar thai sall se mony thousand
Cum armyt on thaim for to fycht,
But thocht thai quhone war thai war wicht,
And forout drede or effray
In twa bataillis tuk thar way
45 Towart Cragfergus it to se.

[The Scots defeat the lords of Ulster]

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
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As We Go

Artist: dj jazzy jeff and the fresh prince
{*jazzy jeff cuts and scratches slick rick*
As we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
[fresh prince]
Now lets get this party, started off the right way
Oww and hoe I think the crowd might say
When were on stage you know you cant resist
{as we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
Im the ultimate, and thats all I can say
I sat down for about eight hours a day
Tryin to figure out the proper description of me
And I came to the decision that
Theres no one syllable or phrase
That can adequately describe this new craze
But Ill sum it up in one sentence, lets see
Ok, Ive got it, all praise me!
Yup -- thats about the size of it
I know it sounds kinda strange, doesnt it?
But when were on the stage you know you cant resist
{as we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
{*jazzy jeff cuts and scratches slick rick*
As we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
[fresh prince]
It was a friday afternoon if I remember it correctly
But I cant quite recall the time exactly
But it was somewhere around, two or three or four
Oh forget it, lets just go on
Anyway I stepped out of school
Sneaks were gucci shirt was polo and my pockets were full
Blew some kisses to the girlies cause I like to tease
They started chantin my name, I said, ladies.. please!
I grabbed my friends and hopped in my benz
Grabbed on martini and rossi passed out to my posse
Things were lookin good, I had plans for later on
Plans for donna michelle, plans for stacy leshaun
Word! I was ready, I wonder if jeffs home
Let me give him a call, on my car phone
Yo jeff, whats shakin? coolin, whassup?
Girlies Im with it, come pick me up!!!
I caught up with ready on the way to jeffs
A whole carload of girlies and they all was def
We walked into jeffs and said, girls, you cant resist
{as we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
{*jazzy jeff cuts and scratches slick rick*
As we go a little somethin like this, hit it!}
[fresh] yo jeff man, are you with me?
{jeff scratches.. hit it!}
[fresh] I didnt hear you man, are you with me?
{jeff scratches.. hit it!}
[fresh] Im with it to get busy!

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Brus Book IX

[The king goes to Inverurie and falls ill]

Now leve we intill the Forest
Douglas that sall bot litill rest
Till the countre deliveryt be
Off Inglis folk and thar powste,
5 And turne we till the noble king
That with the folk off his leding
Towart the Month has tane his wai
Rycht stoutly and intill gud array,
Quhar Alysander Frayser him met
10 And als his broder Symonet
With all the folk thai with thaim had.
The king gud contenance thaim made
That wes rycht blyth off thar cummyne.
Thai tauld the king off the convyne
15 Off Jhone Cumyn erle of Bouchane
That till help him had with him tane
Schyr Jhon Mowbray and other ma,
Schyr David off Brechyn alsua,
With all the folk off thar leding,
20 'And yarnys mar na ony thing
Vengeance off you, schyr king, to tak
For Schyr Jhone the Cumyn his sak
That quhylum in Drumfres wes slayn.'
The king said, 'Sa our Lord me sayn,
25 Ik had gret caus him for to sla,
And sen that thai on hand will ta
Becaus off him to werray me
I sall thole a quhile and se
On quhat wys that thai pruve thar mycht,
30 And giff it fall that thai will fycht
Giff thai assaile we sall defend,
Syne fall eftre quhat God will send.'
Eftre this spek the king in hy
Held straucht his way till Enrowry,
35 And thar him tuk sik a seknes
That put him to full hard distress.
He forbar bath drynk and mete,
His men na medicyne couth get
That ever mycht to the king availe,
40 His force gan him halyly faile
That he mycht nother rid na ga.
Then wyt ye that his men war wa,
For nane wes in that cumpany
That wald haiff bene halff sa sary
45 For till haiff sene his broder ded
Lyand befor him in that steid
As thai war for his seknes,
For all thar confort in him wes.

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
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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,
Tharfor I rede our cariage
20 Foroutyn ony man or page
Be thaimselvyn arayit be
And thai sall seyme fer ma than we,
Set we befor thaim our baneris,
Yone folk that cummys out of Coigneris
25 Quhen thai our baneris thar may se
Sall trow traistly that thar ar we
And thidder in gret hy sall thai rid.
Cum we than on thaim at a sid
And we sall be at avantag,
30 For fra thai in our cariag
Be entryt thai sall combryt be,
And than with all our mycht may we
Lay on and do all that we may.'
All as he ordanyt done haf thai,
35 And thai that come out of Coigneris
Addressyt thaim to the baneris
And smate with spuris the hors in hy
And ruschit thaim sudandly.
The barell-ferraris that war thar
40 Cumbryt thaim fast that ridand war,
And than the erle with his bataill
Come on and sadly gan assaill,
And Schyr Edward a litill by
Assemblit sua rycht hardely
45 That mony a fey fell undre fete,
The feld wox sone of blud all wete.
With sa gret felny thar thai faucht
And sic routis till other raucht

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
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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:

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Lang
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Isle of Dogs

Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Bryan Cranston, Liev Schreiber, Tilda Swinton, Bill Murray, Edward Norton, Greta Gerwig, Kara Hayward, Jeff Goldblum

trailer for Isle of Dogs, directed by Wes Anderson (2018)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.

I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
The northern realms of ancient Caledon,
Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,
By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,
Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown
Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry,
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.

Yes! 'twas sublime, but sad. - The loneliness
Loaded thy heart, the desert tired thine eye;
And strange and awful fears began to press
Thy bosom with a stern solemnity.
Then hast thou wish'd some woodman's cottage nigh,
Something that show'd of life, though low and mean;
Glad sight, its curling wreath of smoke to spy,
Glad sound, its cock's blithe carol would have been,
Or children whooping wild beneath the willows green.

Such are the scenes, where savage grandeur wakes
An awful thrill that softens into sighs;
Such feelings rouse them by dim Rannoch's lakes,
In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures rise:
Or farther, where, beneath the northern skies,
Chides wild Loch-Eribol his caverns hoar-
But, be the minstrel judge, they yield the prize
Of desert dignity to that dread shore,
That sees grim Coolin rise, and hears Coriskin roar.

II.
Through such wild scenes the champion pass'd,
When bold halloo and bugle blast
Upon the breeze came loud and fast.
'There,' said the Bruce, 'rung Edward's horn!
What can have caused such brief return?
And see, brave Ronald,- see him dart
O'er stock and stone like hunted hart,
Precipitate, as is the use,
In war or sport, or Edward Bruce.
- He marks us, and his eager cry
Will tell his news ere he be nigh.'

III.
Loud Edward shouts, 'What make ye here,
Warring upon the mountain-deer,
When Scotland wants her King?
A bark from Lennox cross'd our track,
With her in speed I hurried back,

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poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Edward, Edward

'Why does your sword so drip with blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your sword so drip with blood?
And why so sad are ye, O?'
'O, I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother, mother:
O I have killed my hawk so good:
And I had no more but he, O.'

'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward:
Your hawk’s blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That once was so fair and free, O.'

'Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Edward, Edward:
Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Some other evil ye fear, O.'
'O, I have killed my father dear,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my father dear,
Alas! and woe is me, O!'

'And what penance will ye suffer for that,
Edward, Edward?
And what penance will ye suffer for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mother, mother:
I’ll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I’ll fare over the sea, O.'

'And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
That were sae fair to see, O?'
'I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
Mother, mother:
I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
For here never more may I be, O.'

'And what will ye leave to your children and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your children and your wife
When ye go over the sea, O?'
'The world is large, let them beg through life,

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poem by anonym
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Edward, Edward

'Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude
And why sae sad gang ye, O?'
'O I hae killed my hawk sae gude,
Mither, mither;
O I hae killed my hawk sae gude,
And I hae nae mair but he, O.'

'Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
Edward, Edward;
Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
My dear son, I tell thee, O.'
'O I hae killed my red-roan steed,
Mither, mither;
O I hae killed my red-roan steed,
That was sae fair and free, O.'

'Your steed was auld, and ye've plenty mair,
Edward, Edward;
Your steed was auld, and ye've plenty mair;
Some ither dule ye dree, O.'
'O I hae killed my father dear,
Mither, mither;
O I hae killed my father dear,
Alas, and wae is me, O!'

'And whatten penance will ye dree for that,
Edward, Edward?
Whatten penance will ye dree for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mither, mither;
I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I'll fare over the sea, O.'

'And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha',
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha',
That were sae fair to see, O?'
'I'll let them stand till they doun fa',
Mither, mither;
I'll let them stand till they doun fa',
For here never mair maun I be, O.'

'And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
When ye gang ower the sea, O?'
'The warld's room: let them beg through life,

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poem by Andrew Lang
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Edward, Edward

'WHY does your brand sae drop wi' blude,
   Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude,
   And why sae sad gang ye, O?'
'O I hae kill'd my hawk sae gude,
   Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my hawk sae gude,
   And I had nae mair but he, O.'

'Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
   Edward, Edward;
Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
   My dear son, I tell thee, O.'
'O I hae kill'd my red-roan steed,
   Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my red-roan steed,
   That erst was sae fair and free, O.'

'Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair,
   Edward, Edward;
Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair;
   Some other dule ye dree, O.'
'O I hae kill'd my father dear,
   Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my father dear,
   Alas, and wae is me, O!'

'And whatten penance will ye dree for that,
   Edward, Edward?
Whatten penance will ye dree for that?
   My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
   Mither, mither;
I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
   And I'll fare over the sea, O.'

'And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha',
   Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha',
   That were sae fair to see, O?'
'I'll let them stand till they doun fa',
   Mither, mither;
I'll let them stand till they doun fa',
   For here never mair maun I be, O.'

'And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
   Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
   When ye gang owre the sea, O?'
'The warld's room: let them beg through life,

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poem by Anonymous
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The Three Graves. A Fragment Of A Sexton's Tale

The grapes upon the Vicar's wall
Were ripe as ripe could be;
And yellow leaves in sun and wind
Were falling from the tree.

On the hedge-elms in the narrow lane
Still swung the spikes of corn:
Dear Lord! it seems but yesterday--
Young Edward's marriage-morn.

Up through that wood behind the church,
There leads from Edward's door
A mossy track, all over boughed,
For half a mile or more.

And from their house-door by that track
The bride and bridegroom went;
Sweet Mary, though she was not gay,
Seemed cheerful and content.

But when they to the church-yard came,
I've heard poor Mary say,
As soon as she stepped into the sun,
Her heart it died away.

And when the Vicar join'd their hands,
Her limbs did creep and freeze;
But when they prayed, she thought she saw
Her mother on her knees.

And o'er the church-path they returned--
I saw poor Mary's back,
Just as she stepped beneath the boughs
Into the mossy track.

Her feet upon the mossy track
The married maiden set:
That moment--I have heard her say--
She wished she could forget.

The shade o'er-flushed her limbs with heat--
Then came a chill like death:
And when the merry bells rang out,
They seemed to stop her breath.

Beneath the foulest mother's curse
No child could ever thrive:
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.

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poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Edward, Edward

Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid,
Edward, Edward?
Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid?
And why sae sad gang ye, O?
O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
Mither, mither,
O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
And I had nae mair bot hee, O.

Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
Edward, Edward,
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
My deir son I tell thee, O.
O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
Mither, mither,
O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
That erst was sae fair and frie, O.

Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Edward, Edward,
Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Sum other dule ye drie, O.
O, I hae killed my fadir deir,
Mither, mither,
O, I hae killed my fadir deir,
Alas, and wae is mee, O.

And whatten penance wul ye drie for that,
Edward, Edward?
And whatten penance will ye drie for that?
My deir son, now tell me, O.
Ile set my feit in yonder boat,
Mither, mither,
Il set my feit in yonder boat,
And Ile fare ovir the sea, O.

And what wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha',
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ye doe wi' your towirs and your ha',
That were sae fair to see, O?
Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa',
Mither, mither,
Ile let thame stand tul they doun fa',
For here nevir mair maun I bee, O.

And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what wul ye leive to your bairns and your wife,
Whan ye gang ovir the sea, O?
The warldis room, late them beg thrae life,

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poem by Thomas Percy
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