The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 2 (of 5)

Ballads, English -- England -- Texts; Ballads, Scots -- Scotland -- Texts

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    7
    'Call upo your men, maister,
      An dinna call on me,
    For ye drank them weel ere ye tuke the gate,
      But O nane gae ye me.

    8
    'Ye beat my back, an beat my sides,
      When I socht hose an sheen;
    So call upo your men, maister,
      As they lie drunk wi wine.'

    9
    'Come doon, come doon, my bonnie boy,
      An tak my helm in han;
    Gin ever we live to gae to lan,
      I'll wed ye wi my daughter Ann.'

    10
    'Ye used me ill, my guid maister,
      When we was on the lan,
    But nevertheless, my gude maister,
      I'll tak your helm in han.'

    11
    O laith, laith was oor bonny boys
      To weet their cork-heeled shoes;
    But lang ere a' the play was played,
      They wat their yallow broos.

    12
    O laith, laith was oor bonnie boys
      To weet their cork-heeled sheen;
    But lang ere a' the play was played,
      They wat their hair abeen.

    13
    'O lang, lang will my lady leuk,
      Wi the lantern in her han,
    Afore she see my bonnie ship
      Come sailin to dry lan.'

    14
    Atween Leith an Aberdeen
      Lies mony a craig an sea,
    An there it lies young Patrick Spens,
      An mony bonnie boys him wi.


L

        Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 6, Motherwell's MS., p. 156,
        from Mrs Gentles, Paisley, February 1825.

    1
    Our ship it was a gudely ship,
      Its topmast was of gold,
    And at every tack of needlework
      There hung a silver bell.

    2
    Up started the mermaid by our ship,
      Wi the glass and the comb in her hand:
    'Reek about, reek about, my merrie men,
      Ye are not far from land.'

    3
    'You lie, you lie, you pretty mermaid,
      Sae loud as I hear you lie;
    For since I have seen your face this nicht,
      The land I will never see.'

    4
    We hadna sailed a league but ane,
      A league but barely three,
    Till all we and our goodly ship
      Was all drowned in the sea.

    5
    Lang lang may our ladies stand,
      Wi their seams into their hand,
    Looking for Sir Patrick's ship,
      That will never come to land.


M

        Buchan's Gleaning, p. 196, "from a very intelligent old
        man."

    1
    There shall no man go to my ship
      Till I say mass and dine,
    And take my leave of my lady;
      Go to my bonny ship syne.

    2
    When he was up at the top-mast head
      Around could naething see,
    But terrible storm in the air aboon,
      And below the roaring sea.

    3
    'Come down, come down, my good master,
      You see not what I see;
    For thro an thro your bonny ship's side
      I see the green salt sea.'

    4
    Lang lang will the ladies look,
      Wi their gown-tails owre their crown,
    Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
      Sailing to Dunferline town.


N

        Noted down from a female servant, by Joseph Robertson,
        July 15, 1829, Adversaria, p. 67.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 2 (of 5)

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