- Our ship it was a gudely ship, Its topmast was of gold, And at every tack of needlework There hung a silver bell.
- 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.’
- ‘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.’
- 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.
- Lang lang may our ladies stand, Wi their seams into their hand, Looking for Sir Patrick’s ship, That will never come to land.
No: 58; variant: 58L
Source: Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 6, Motherwell's MS., p. 156, from Mrs Gentles, Paisley, February 1825.