He hadna gane to his tapmast
A step but barely three;
Ere thro' and thro' the bonny ship's side,
He saw the green haw sea.
"There are five-an-fifty feather beds85
Well packed in ae room;
And ye'll get as muckle guid canvas
As wrap the ship a' roun';
"Ye'll pict her well, and spare her not,
And mak' her hale and soun'."90
But ere he had the word well spoke
The bonny ship was down.
O laith, laith were our guid lords' sons
To weet their milk-white hands;
But lang ere a' the play was ower95
They wat their gowden bands.
O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons
To weet their coal-black shoon;
But lang ere a' the play was ower
They wat their hats aboon.100
It's even ower by Aberdour
It's fifty fathoms deep,
And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens,
And a's men at his feet.
It's even ower by Aberdour,105
There's mony a craig and fin,
And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi' mony a guid lord's son.
Lang, lang will the ladyes look
Into their morning weed,110
Before they see young Patrick Spens
Come sailing ower the fleed.
Lang, lang will the ladyes look
Wi' their fans in their hand,
Before they see him, Patrick Spens,115
Come sailing to dry land.