Anonymous

The king sits in Dunfermline toun,
  A drinking at the wine.
'O where shall I get a skilly skipper
  To sail this ship o' mine?'
 
Then up and spake an eldern carle        
  Stood by the king's right knee.
'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
  That ever sail'd the sea.'
 
The king has written a lang letter
  And signed it wi his hand,  
And sent it to young Patrick Spens,
  Was walking on Leith sands.
 
The first line that Sir Patrick read
 A loud laugh laughèd he;
The next line that Sir Patrick read
  The tear blinded his ee.  

'Tae Norrowa, Tae Norrowa,
  Tae Norrowa o'er the faem;
The king's daughter frae Norrowa,  
  'Tis ye maun brang her hame.'
 
'O wha is this done this ill deed
  And telled the King o' me,
Although it were my ain father
  An ill death may he dee.’
  
‘They hadna been in Norrowa
   A week but barely three
When all the lords o Norrowa
   They up and spak sae free.

‘These outland Scots waste our King’s gold
  And swalla our Queen’s fee.’ 
Wearie fa the tongue that spak
  Sicca mortal lee.
 
‘Tak tent, tak tent, my good men all,
   Our good ship sails the morne.’
‘O say na sae, my master dear,
   For I fear a deadly storm.

‘Late late yestreen I saw the new moon
   Wi the auld moon in her arm.
I fear, I fear, my dear master
   That we shall come to harm.’ 
  
O laith laith were those good Scots Lords 
  To wet their cork-heeled shoon; 
But long e’er all the play was play'd
  They wet their hats aboon.
  
O lang lang may their ladies sit  
  Wi' their gold fans in their hand,
Waiting for Sir Patrick Spens 
  Come sailing to the land.
 
O lang lang may their ladies sit
  Wi' the gold combs in their hair
Waiting for their own dear lords,
  They'll see them never mair.
  
Haf-owre, half-owre to Aberdour,
  Where the sea’s sae wide and deep,
It’s there it lies Sir Patrick Spens
  Wi the Scots Lords at his feet. 

traditional

 =Wayne Vargas