- The king sits in Dumfermline town, A-drinking at the wine; Says, Where will I get a good skipper, Will sail the saut seas fine?
- Out it speaks an eldren knight Amang the companie: 'Young Patrick Spens is the best skipper That ever saild the sea.'
- The king he wrote a braid letter, And seald it wi his ring; Says, Ye'll gie that to Patrick Spens, See if ye can him find.
- He sent this not wi an auld man, Nor yet a simple boy, But the best o nobles in his train This letter did convoy.
- When Patrick lookd the letter upon A light laugh then gae he; But ere he read it till an end, The tear blinded his ee.
- Ye'll eat and drink, my merry men a', An see ye be weell thorn; For blaw it weet, or blaw it wind, My guid ship sails the morn.'
- Then out it speaks a guid auld man, A guid death mat he dee' 'Whatever ye do, my guid master, Tak God your guide to bee.
- 'For late yestreen I saw the new moon, The auld moon in her arm:' 'Ohon, alas'' says Patrick Spens, 'That bodes a deadly storm.
- 'But I maun sail the seas the morn, And likewise sae maun you; To Noroway, wi our king's daughter, A chosen queen she's now.
- 'But I wonder who has been sae base As tauld the king o mee; Even tho he ware my ae brither, An ill death mat he dee''
- Now Patrick he riggd out his ship, And sailed ower the faem, But mony a dreary thought had hee, While hee was on the main.
- They hadna saild upon the sea A day but barely three, Till they came in sight o Noroway, It's there where they must bee.
- They hadna stayed into that place A month but and a day, Till he causd the flip in mugs gae roun, And wine in cans sae gay.
- The pipe and harp sae sweetly playd, The trumpets loudly soun; In every hall where in they stayd, Wi their mirth did reboun.
- Then out it speaks an auld skipper, An inbearing dog was hee: 'Ye've stayd ower lang in Noroway, Spending your king's monie.'
- Then out it speaks Sir Patrick Spens: 'O how can a' this bee? I hae a bow o guid red gowd Into my ship wi mee.
- 'But betide me well, betide me wae, This day I'se leave the shore, And never spend my king's monie Mong Noroway dogs no more.'
- Young Patrick hee is on the sea, And even on the faem, Wi five-an-fifty Scots lords' sons, That langd to bee at hame.
- They hadna saild upon the sea A day but barely three, Till loud and boistrous grew the wind, And stormy grew the sea.
- 'O where will I get a little wee boy Will tak my helm in hand, Till I gae up to my tapmast, And see for some dry land?'
- He hadna gane to his tapmast A step but barely three, Ere thro and thro the bonny ship's side He saw the green haw sea.
- 'There are five-an-fifty feather beds Well packed in ae room; And ye'll get as muckle guid canvas As wrap the ship a' roun.
- 'Ye'll pict her well, and spare her not, And mak her hale and soun:' But ere he had the word well spoke The bonny ship was down.
- O laith, laith were our guid lords' sons To weet their milk-white hands; But lang ere a' the play was ower, They wat their gowden bands.
- O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons To weet their coal-black shoon; But lang ere a' the play was ower, They wat their hats aboon.
- It's even ower by Aberdour It's fifty fathoms deep, And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens, And a's men at his feet.
- It's even ower by Aberdour, There's mony a craig and fin, And yonder lies Sir Patrick Spens, Wi mony a guid lord's son.
- Lang, lang will the ladyes look, Into their morning weed, Before they see young Patrick Spens Come sailing ower the fleed.
- Lang, lang will the ladyes look, Wi their fans in their hand, Before they see him Patrick Spens Come sailing to dry land.
No: 58; variant: 58I
Source: Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 1; Motherwell's MS., p. 550.