lirik lagu traditional: sir patrick spens - john laurie
the king sits in dunfermline town
drinking the blude~red wine o:
“o whare will i get a skeely skipper
to sail this new ship of mine o?”
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.”
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
“to noroway, to noroway
to noroway oer the faem;
the king’s daughter of noroway
’tis thou maun bring her hame.”
the first word that sir patrick read
sae loud, loud laughed he;
the neist word that sir patrick read
the tear blinded his ee
“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?”
“be it wind, be it weet, be it hall, be it sleet
our ship must sail the faem;
the king’s daughter of noroway
’tis we must fetch her hame.”
they hoysed their sails on monenday morn
wi’ a’ the speed they may;
they hae landed in noroway
upon a wodensday
they hadna been a week, a week
in noroway but twae
when that the lords o noroway
began aloud to say:
“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!
“for i brought as much white monie
as gane my men and me
and i brought a half~fou’ o’ gude red goud
out o’er the sea wi’ me
“make ready, make ready, my merry~men a’!
our gude ship sails the morn.”
“now ever alake, my master dear
i fear a deadly storm!
i saw the new moon, late yestreen
wi’ the auld moon in her arm;
and if we gang to sea, master
i fear we’ll come to harm.”
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 top~masts lap
it was sic a deadly storm;
and the waves cam o’er the broken ship
till a’ her sides were torn
“o where will i get a gude sailor
to take my helm in hand
till i get up to the tall top~mast;
to see if i can spy land?”
“o here am i, a sailor gude
to take the helm in hand
till you go up to the tall top~mast
but i fear you’ll ne’er spy land.”
he hadna gane a step, a step
a step but barely ane
when a bout flew out of our goodly ship
and the salt sea it came in
“gae, fetch a web o’ the silken claith
another o’ the twine
and wap them into our ship’s side
and let na the sea come in.”
they fetchd a web o the silken claith
another o the twine
and they wapped them roun that gude ship’s side
but still the sea came in
o laith, laith, were our gude scots lords
to weet their cork~heel’d shoon!
but lang or a the play was play’d
they wat their hats aboon
and mony was the feather~bed
that fluttered on the faem
and mony was the gude lord’s son
that never mair cam hame
the ladyes wrang their fingers white
the maidens tore their hair
a’ for the sake of their true loves
for them they’ll see na mair
o lang, lang may the ladyes 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’ their goud kaims in their hair
a’ waiting for their ain dear loves!
for them they’ll see na mair
o forty miles off aberdeen
’tis fifty fathoms deep
and there lies gude sir patrick spens
wi’ the scots lords at his feet
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