10 We hadna sailed a league, a league,
A league but only three,
Till cold and watry grew the wind,
And grumly grew the sea.
11 'Wha will come,' the captain says,
'And take my helm in hand?
Or wha'll gae up to my topmast,
And look for some dry land?
12 'Mount up, mount up, my pretty boy,
See what you can spy;
Mount up, mount up, my pretty boy,
See if any land we're nigh.'
13 'We're fifty miles from shore to shore,
And fifty banks of sand;
And we have all that for to sail
Or we come to dry land.'
14 'Come down, come down, my pretty boy,
I think you tarry lang;
For the saut sea's in at our coat-neck
And out at our left arm.
15 'Come down, come down, my pretty boy,
I fear we here maun die;
For thro and thro my goodly ship
I see the green-waved sea.'
16 Our Scotch lords were all afraid
To weet their cork-heeled shoon;
But lang or a' the play was played,
Their hats they swam abune.
17 The first step that the captain stept,
It took him to the knee,
And the next step that the captain stepped
They were a' drownd in the sea.
18 Half owre, half owre to Aberdour
It's fifty fadoms deep,
And there lay good Sir Patrick Spens,
And the Scotch lords at his feet.
19 Lang may our Scotch lords' ladies sit,
And sew their silken seam,
Before they see their good Scotch lords
Come sailing owre the main.