12 'Whare will I get a bonny boy Will tak thir sails in hand, That will gang up to the tap-mast, See an he ken dry land?' 13 Laith, laith were our good Scots lords To weet their leathern shoon; But or the morn at fair day-light, Their hats were wat aboon. 14 Mony was the feather bed, That flotterd on the faem, And mony was the good Scots lord Gaed awa that neer cam hame, And mony was the fatherless bairn That lay at hame greetin. 15 It's forty miles to Aberdeen, And fifty fathoms deep; And there lyes a' our good Scots lords, Wi Sir Patrick at their feet. 16 The ladies crackt their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, A' for the sake o their true loves, For them they neer saw mair. 17 Lang, lang may our ladies stand, Wi their fans in their hand, Ere they see Sir Patrick and his men Come sailing to the land. H Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 64, ed. 1803; I, 299, ed. 1833; "taken from two MS. copies, collated with several verses recited by the editor's friend, Robert Hamilton, Esq., Advocate." 1 The king sits in Dumfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine: O 'O whare will I get a skeely skipper, To sail this new ship of mine?' O 2 O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee: 'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever saild the sea.' 3 Our king has written a braid letter, And seald it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand. 4 'To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway oer the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'T is thou maun bring her hame.' 5 The first word that Sir Patrick read, Sae loud, loud laughed he; The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his ee. 6 'O wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o me, To send us out at this time of the year To sail upon the sea? 7 'Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'T is we must fetch her hame.' 8 They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi a' the speed they may; They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday. 9 They hadna been a week, a week In Noroway but twae, When that the lords o Noroway Began aloud to say: 10 'Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud, And a' our queenis fee!' 'Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud, Fu loud I hear ye lie! 11 'For I brought as much white monie As gane my men and me, And I brought a half-fou o gude red goud Out oer the sea wi me.