Sir Patrick Spens

¹The king sits in Dumferline town,

²Drinking the blude-red wine;

³"O where will I get a good sailor

⁴To sail this ship of mine?"

⁵Up and spak an eldern knight,

⁶Sat at the king's right knee:

⁷"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor

⁸That sails upon the sea."

⁹The king has written a broad letter,

¹⁰And signed it with his hand,

¹¹And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,

¹²Was walking on the sand.

¹³The first line that Sir Patrick read,

¹⁴A loud laugh laughed he;

¹⁵The next line that Sir Patrick read,

¹⁶A tear blinded his eye.

¹⁷"O who is this has done this deed,

¹⁸This ill deed done to me,

¹⁹To send me out this time o' the year,

²⁰To sail upon the sea?"

²¹"Make haste, make haste, my merry men all,

²²Our good ship sails the morn."

²³"O say not so, my master dear,

²⁴For I fear a deadly storm."

²⁵Late, late yestreen I saw the new moon

²⁶With the old moon in her arm,

²⁷And I fear, I fear, my dear master,

²⁸That we will come to harm.

²⁹O our Scots nobles were right loath

³⁰To wet their cork-heeled shoon;

³¹But long ere a' the play were played

³²Their hats they swam aboon.

³³O long, long may the ladies stand

³⁴With their gold combs in their hair,

³⁵Waiting for their own dear lords,

³⁶For they'll see them no more.

³⁷Half over, half over to Aberdour,

³⁸It's fifty fathoms deep,

³⁹And there lies good Sir Patrick Spens,

⁴⁰With the Scots lords at his feet.