Lyrics: Nic Jones / Digitrad

Oh the King he sits in Dumfirmlan town
A-drinking the blood red wine
Oh where will I get a fine mariner
To sail seven ships of mine

And then up spoke a fine young man
Sat at the King's right knee
Sir Patrick Spens is the best mariner
As every sailed on the seas

So the King he has written a broad letter
And signed it with his own hand
And he sent it off to Sir Patrick Spens
A-walking all on the strand

And the very first lines that Patrick he read
A little laugh then gave he
And the very last line that Patrick read
The salt tears filled his eyes

Oh who is he that's done this deed
And told the King of me
For never was I a good mariner
And never do intend to be

Late yes'treen I saw the new moon
With the old moon in her arms
And I fear I fear a deadly storm
Our ship – she'll come to harm

But rise up rise up my merry men all
Our little ship sails in the morn
Whether it's windy or whether it's wet
Or whether there's a deadly storm

And they hadn't been sailing a league or more
A league but barely nine
When the wind and wet and sleet and snow
Come a-blowing up behind

Oh where can I get a little cabin boy
To take the helm in hand
While I go up to the top mast high
And see if I can't spy land

Come down, come dow Sir Patrick Spens
We fear that we all must die
For in and out of the good ship's hull
The wind and the ocean fly

And the very first step that Patrick he took
The water it came to his knees
And the very last step that Patrick he took
They drowned they were in the seas

And many was the fine feathered bed
That floated on the foam
And many was the little Lord's son
That never never more came home

And long long may their Ladies sit
With their fans all in their hands
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come a-sailing along the strand

For it's fifty miles to Aberdeen shore
It's fifty fathoms deep
And there does lie Sir Patrick Spens
With the little Lords at his feet

SIR PATRICK SPENS  from Digitrad

The King sits in Dumferlane toon
A-drinkin' at the wine
And he has called for the best skipper
In Fife and all the land

Then out there spoke an old carle
Sat by the King's own knee
Says, "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That ever sailed the sea"

The King has written a long letter
And signed it with his own hand
And sent it to young Patrick Spens
Was walking on Leith strand

"To Norowa, to Norowa
To Norowa over the foam
The King's daughter of Norowa
Tis you must bring her home"

The first line that Sir Patrick read
A loud, loud laugh laughed he
The next line that Sir Patrick read
A tear blinded his e'e

"Oh who is this has done this deed
And told the King of me
To send me out this time of year
To sail upon the sea?"

They hadn't been in Norowa
A week but barely three
When all the lords of Norowa
Got up and spak' so free

"The outland Scots waste our King's gold
And swallow our Queen's fee"
"Oh weary for the tongue that speaks
Such a mortal lie"

"Take tent, take tent, my good men all
Make sure you are well forn
For come it wind or come it rain
Our good ship sails the morn"

Then out there spoke the weatherman
"I fear we'll all be drownded
For I saw the new moon late yestere'en
With the old moon in her arms"

They had not sailed a league, a league
A league but barely three
When the lift grew dark and the wind blew loud
And surly grew the sea

Oh loath, loath were the good Scots lords
To wear their cork-heeled shoon
But long e'er all the ploy was played
They wore their hats aboon

Half over, half over by Aberdeen
Where the sea's so wide and deep
It's there that lies young Patrick Spens
With the Scots lord at his feet

Child #58
@sailor @Scots @royal @death
filename[ PATSPENS