They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway 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!
For I brought as mickle white monie As gane my men and me, And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud Out-o'er the sea wi' me.
Mak' ready, mak' ready, my merry men a'! 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; 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, And gurly grew the sea.
‘O where will I get a gude sailor To tak' my helm in hand, Till I gae up to the tall topmast To see if I can spy land?’
‘O here am I, a sailor gude, To tak' the helm in hand, Till you gae up to the tall topmast; But I fear you'll ne'er spy land.’
He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bolt flew out o' our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in.
‘Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And wap them into our ship's side, And letna the sea come in.’