SIR PATRICK SPENS
"Go fetch a web os the silken claith.
Another o' the twine.
And wap them into our ship's side.
And let nae the sea come in."
They fetched a web o* the silken claith,
Another o' the twine.
And they wapp'd them round that gude ship's side,
But still the sea came in.
O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords
To wet their cork-heel'd shoon ;	10
But lang or a' the play was play'd
They wat their hats aboon.
And mony was the feather bed
That flatter'd on the faem ;
And mony was the gude lord's son
That never mair cam hame.
O lang, lang may the ladies sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand,
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the strand !	20
And lang, lang may the maidens sit
Wi' their gowd kames in their hair,
A-waiting for their ain dear loves I
For them they'll see nae mair.
Half-owre, half-owre to Aberdour,
'Tis fifty fathoms deep ;
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet I
anonymous