THE KING sits in Dunfermline town, | |
| Drinking the blude-red wine, | |
| “O whare will I get a skeely skipper, | |
| To sail this new ship of mine!” | |
| |
| O up and spake an eldern knight, | 5 |
| Sat at the king’s right knee,— | |
| “Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, | |
| That ever sailed the sea.” | |
| |
| Our king has written a braid letter, | |
| And sealed it with his hand, | 10 |
| And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, | |
| Was walking on the strand. | |
| |
| “To Noroway, to Noroway, | |
| To Noroway o’er the faem; | |
| The king’s daughter of Noroway, | 15 |
| ’T is thou maun bring her hame.” | |
| |
| The first word that Sir Patrick read, | |
| Sae loud loud laughèd he; | |
| The neist word that Sir Patrick read, | |
| The tear blinded his e’e. | 20 |
| |
| “O wha is this has done this deed, | |
| And tauld the king o’ me, | |
| To send us out, at this time of the year, | |
| To sail upon the sea? | |
| |
| “Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, | 25 |
| Our ship must sail the faem; | |
| The king’s daughter of Noroway, | |
| ’T is we must fetch her hame.” | |
| |
| They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, | |
| Wi’ a’ the speed they may; | 30 |
| They hae landed in Noroway, | |
| Upon a Wodensday. | |
| |
| They hadna been a week, a week, | |
| In Noroway, but twae, | |
| When that the lords o’ Noroway | 35 |
| Began aloud to say,— | |
| |
| “Ye Scottishmen spend a’ our king’s goud, | |
| And a’ our queenis fee.” | |
| “Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! | |
| Fu’ loud I hear ye lie. | 40 |
| |
| “For I brought as much white monie, | |
| As gane 1 my men and me, | |
| And I brought a half-fou 2 o’ gude red goud, | |
| Out o’er the sea wi’ me. | |
| |
| “Make ready, make ready, my merrymen a’! | 45 |
| Our gude ship sails the morn.” | |
| “Now, ever alake, my master dear, | |
| I fear a deadly storm! | |
| |
| “I saw the new moon, late yestreen, | |
| Wi’ the auld moon in her arm; | 50 |
| And, if we gang to sea, master, | |
| I fear we ’ll come to harm.” | |
| |
| They hadna sailed a league, a league, | |
| A league but barely three, | |
| When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, | 55 |
| And gurly grew the sea. | |
| |
| The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, | |
| It was sic a deadly storm; | |
| And the waves cam o’er the broken ship, | |
| Till a’ her sides were torn. | 60 |
| |
| “O where will I get a gude sailor, | |
| To take my helm in hand, | |
| Till I get up to the tall top-mast, | |
| To see if I can spy land?” | |
| |
| “O here am I, a sailor gude, | 65 |
| To take the helm in hand, | |
| Till you go up to the tall top-mast; | |
| But I fear you ’ll ne’er spy land.” | |
| |
| He hadna gane a step, a step, | |
| A step but barely ane, | 70 |
| When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, | |
| And the salt sea it came in. | |
| |
| “Gae, fetch a web o’ silken claith, | |
| Another o’ the twine, | |
| And wap them into our ship’s side, | 75 |
| And let na the sea come in.” | |
| |
| They fetched a web o’ the silken claith, | |
| Another o’ the twine, | |
| And they wapped them round that gude ship’s side, | |
| But still the sea came in. | 80 |
| |
| O laith, laith, were our gude Scots lords | |
| To weet their cork-heeled shoon! | |
| But lang or a’ the play was played, | |
| They wat their hats aboon. | |
| |
| And mony was the feather-bed, | 85 |
| That flattered on the faem; | |
| And mony was the gude lord’s son, | |
| That never mair cam hame. | |
| |
| The ladyes wrang their fingers white, | |
| The maidens tore their hair, | 90 |
| A’ for the sake of their true loves; | |
| For them they ’ll see na mair. | |
| |
| O lang, lang, may the ladyes sit, | |
| Wi’ their fans into their hand, | |
| Before they see Sir Patrick Spens | 95 |
| Come sailing to the strand! | |
| |
| And lang, lang, may the maidens sit, | |
| Wi’ their goud kaims in their hair, | |
| A’ waiting for their ain dear loves! | |
| For them they ’ll see na mair. | 100 |
| |
| O forty miles off Aberdeen, | |
| ’T is fifty fathoms deep, | |
| And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, | |
| Wi’ the Scots lords at his feet. | |
