B
Herd's MSS., II, 27, I, 49.
1 The king he sits in Dumferling,
Drinking the blude reid wine: O
'O where will I get a gude sailor,
That'l sail the ships o mine?' O
2 Up then started a yallow-haird man,
Just be the kings right knee:
'Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor
That ever saild the see.'
3 Then the king he wrote a lang letter,
And sealld it with his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,
That was lyand at Leith Sands.
4 When Patrick lookd the letter on,
He gae loud laughters three;
But afore he wan to the end of it
The teir blindit his ee.
5 'O wha is this has tald the king,
Has tald the king o me?
Gif I but wist the man it war,
Hanged should he be.
6 'Come eat and drink, my merry men all,
For our ships maun sail the morn;
Bla'd wind, bla'd weet, bla'd sna or sleet,
Our ships maun sail the morn.'
7 'Alake and alas now, good master,
For I fear a deidly storm;
For I saw the new moon late yestreen,
And the auld moon in her arms.'
8 They had not saild upon the sea
A league but merely three,
When ugly, ugly were the jaws
That rowd unto their knee.