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The Declaration of Arbroath was a declaration of
Scottish independence drawn up in Arbroath Abbey on the 6th April 1320.
Its was set out to confirm Scotland's status as an independent,
sovereign state and its use of military action when unjustly attacked.
It is in the form of a letter submitted to Pope John XXII, and is a
request that he accept Scotland as an independent nation.
Freedom - Freedom - Freedom
Extract from the Declaration of
Arbroath
"Yet if he should give up what he has begun, and agree to make us or our
kingdom subject to the King of England or the English, we should exert
ourselves at once to drive him out as our enemy and a subverter of his
own rights and ours, and make some other man who was well able to defend
us our King; for, as long as but a hundred of us remain alive, never
will we on any conditions be brought under English rule. It is in truth
not for glory, nor riches, nor honours that we are fighting, but for
freedom -- for that alone, which no honest man gives up but with life
itself."
Declaration of Arbroath in English
Declaration of Arbroath in Latin |
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Scottish Poems from No'
Rabbie Burns by Stuart McLean:
A Hundred of Us Remain Alive
Chorus:
Honest men, let us fight for freedom,
Let us rise and be a nation once more,
Honest men, let us fight for freedom,
But maybe no’ ‘til East Enders is o’er.
Our history is slowly melting,
Washed away by the anaesthetic drips,
Of soap operas, computer games,
Instant coffee, burgers and chips.
The Highland Clearances no longer fires our rage,
The Declaration of Arbroath no longer fuels our pride,
Now we only don the kilt for weddings,
To smile at the camera and kiss the bride.
For centuries we fought for our wee bit hill and glen,
Rejoiced every victory and mourned each cruel defeat,
Now our only rebellious act is switching channel,
While the wife is watching Coronation Street.
At Bannockburn we stood strong and showed our might,
We died at Culloden but not without a bloody fight,
Now our patriotism is confined to the football stadium,
Accepting defeat as if it were our right.
O, Robert the Bruce where are you now?
Prince Charlie will your wife not let you come?
Or are there not a hundred of us remain alive,
Would even give up the telly to fight for our freedom?
Copyright Stuart McLean For More Scottish
Poems by Stuart McLean Visit :
No' Rabbie Burns |
