‘That ye threw deep, deep in the sea;
And ye’ll relieve my merry young men,
For they’ve nane o the swick o me.
13
‘They shot the shot, and drew the stroke,
And wad in red bluid to the knee;
Nae sailors mair for their lord coud do
Nor my young men they did for me.’
14
‘I hae a question at you to ask,