C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Sir Patrick Spens
By The Ballad
1.
THE KING sits in Dumferling toune, | Drinking the blude-reid wine: | “O whar will I get guid sailor, | To sail this ship of mine?” 2. | Up and spak an eldern knight, | Sat at the kings right kne: | “Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor, | That sails upon the sea.” 3. | The king has written a braid letter, | And sign’d it wi’ his hand, | And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, | Was walking on the sand. 4. | The first line that Sir Patrick read, | A loud laugh laughed he; | The next line that Sir Patrick read, | The tear blinded his ee. 5. | “O wha is this has done this deed, | This ill deed done to me, | To send me out this time o’ the year, | To sail upon the sea!” 6. | “Make haste, make haste, my mirry men all, | Our guide ship sails the morne:” | “O say na sae, my master dear, | For I fear a deadlie storme. 7. | “Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone, | Wi’ the auld moone in hir arme, | And I fear, I fear, my dear master, | That we will come to harme.” 8. | O our Scots nobles were right laith | To weet their cork-heeled shoone; | But lang owre a’ the play wer play’d, | Their hats they swam aboone. 9. | O lang, lang may their ladies sit, | W’ their fans into their hand, | Or e’er they see Sir Patrick Spens | Cum sailing to the land. 10. | O lang, lang may the ladies stand, | Wi’ their gold kems in their hair, | Waiting for their ain dear lords, | For they’ll se thame na mair. 11. | Half owre, half owre to Aberdour, | It’s fiftie fadom deep, | And their lies guid Sir Patrick Spens, | Wi’ the Scots lords at his feet.
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