They hadna sail'd a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud And gurly grew the sea. The ankers brak, and the tap-masts lap, It was sic a deadlie storm; And the waves cam' owre the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn. 'O whare will I get a gude sailor Will tak' the helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall tap-mast, To see if I can spy land.' 'O here am I, a sailor gude, To tak' the helm in hand, Till ye get up to the tall tap-mast, But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land.' He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bout flew out o' the gude ship's side, And the saut sea it cam' in. 'Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And wap them into our gude ship's side, And letna the sea come in.' They fetch'd a wab o' the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And they wapp'd them into the gude ship's side, But aye the sea cam' in. O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons To weet their coal-black shoon, But lang ere a' the play was play'd, They wat their hats abune. And mony was the feather-bed That fluttered on the faem, And mony was the gude lord's son That never mair cam' hame. O lang, lang may the ladies sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand. And lang, lang may the maidens sit, Wi' the gowd kaims in their hair, A' waiting for their ain dear loves, For them they'll see nae mair. Half owre, half owre to Aberdour 'Tis fifty fathom deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens Wi' the Scots lords at his feet. THE BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER OF BEDNALL-GREEN PART I It was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight, He had a fair daughter of beauty most bright; And many a gallant brave suitor had she, For none was so comely as pretty Bessee. And though she was of favour most faire, Yet seeing she was but a poor beggar's heyre, Of ancyent housekeepers despised was she, Whose sons came as suitors to pretty Bessee. Wherefore in great sorrow fair Bessy did say, Good father, and mother, let me go away To seek out my fortune, whatever it be, This suite then they granted to pretty Bessee. Then Bessy, that was of beauty so bright, All cladd in grey russet, and late in the night From father and mother alone parted she, Who sighed and sobbed for pretty Bessee. She went till she came to Stratford-le-Bow; Then knew she not whither, nor which way to go: With tears she lamented her hard destinìe, So sad and so heavy was pretty Bessee. She kept on her journey until it was day, And went unto Rumford along the high way; Where at the Queen's arms entertained was she: So fair and well-favoured was pretty Bessee.