Scottish poet (c. 1320-1395)
Freedom all solace to man gives
He lives at ease who freely lives.
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
But he that has been always free
Can ne'er know the reality,
The anguish and the wretched fate
That is a part of thraldom's state.
A thing, when we experience it,
Makes evident its opposite.
If bondage he has ever known,
Then freedom's blessings he will own,
And reckon freedom worth in gold
More than the world will ever hold!
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
For love is of such potent might
That of misfortune it makes light.
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
Leaute to luff is gretumly;
Throuch leaute liffis men rychtwisly:
With a vertu of leaute
A man may yheit sufficyand be:
And but leawte may nane haiff price,
Quhethir he be wycht, or he be wys;
For quhar it failyheys, na vertu
May be off price, na off valu,
To mak a man sa gud that he
May symply callyt gud man be.
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
Off thaim I thynk this buk to ma:
Now God gyff grace that I may swa
Tret it, and bryng it till endyng,
That I say nocht bot suthfast thing!
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
With full good will they all fell to,
And sought no other sauce thereto
Than appetite.
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
Na he, that ay has levyt fre,
May nocht knaw weill the propyrte,
The angyr, na the wrechyt dome,
That is cowplyt to foule thyrldome.
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
Although for food they hungered sore
He sent them drink, enough and more!
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce
He thocht weill he wes worth na seyle,
That mycht of nane anoyis feyle;
And als for till escheve gret thingis,
And hard trawalyis, and barganyngis,
That suld ger his price dowblyt be.
Quharfor, in all hys lyve tyme, he
Wes in gret payn, ec gret trawaill;
And neuir wald for myscheiff faill,
Bot dryve the thing rycht to the end,
And tak the vre that God wald send.
JOHN BARBOUR
The Bruce