SIR PATRICK SPENS
The king sits in Dunfermline toun,
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,
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,
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,
’Tis thou maun bring her hame.’
The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Sae loud loud laughed he;
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his e’e.
‘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,
Our ship must sail the faem;
The king’s daughter of Noroway,
’Tis we must fetch her hame.’
They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,
Wi’ a’ the speed they may;
And they hae landed in Noroway
Upon a Wedensday.