"I lout to my father for his grace,
Low on my bendit knee;
But I stan' an' luik the king i' the face,
For the skipper is king o' me."
She turnt, she sprang upo' the deck;
The cable splashed i' the Forth,
Her wings sae braid the gude ship spread
And flew east, an' syne flew north.
Now was not this a king's dochter—
A lady that feared no skaith?