He sent this, not wi' an auld man,
Nor yet a simple boy,
But the best o' nobles in his train15
This letter did convoy.
When Patrick look'd the letter upon
A light laugh then ga'e he;
But ere he read it till an end,
"Ye'll eat and drink, my merry men a',
An' see ye be weell thorn;
For blaw it weet, or blaw it wind,
My guid ship sails the morn."
Then out it speaks a guid auld man,25
A guid death mat he dee,—
"Whatever ye do, my guid master,
Tak' God your guide to bee.
"For late yestreen I saw the new moon,
The auld moon in her arm."30
"Ohon, alas!" says Patrick Spens,
"That bodes a deadly storm.
"But I maun sail the seas the morn,
And likewise sae maun you;
To Noroway, wi' our king's daughter,—35
A chosen queen she's now.
"But I wonder who has been sae base,
As tauld the king o' mee:
Even tho' hee ware my ae brither,
An ill death mat he dee."40
Now Patrick he rigg'd out his ship,
And sailed ower the faem;
But mony a dreary thought had hee,
While hee was on the main.
They hadna sail'd upon the sea45
A day but barely three,
Till they came in sight o' Noroway,
It's there where they must bee.