_Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, i. 299.
In singing, the interjection O is added to the second and fourth lines.
The king sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine: "O whare will I get a skeely skipper To sail this new ship of mine?"
O up and spake an eldern knight, 5 Sat at the king's right knee: "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea."
Our king has written a braid letter, And sealed it with his hand, 10 And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand.
"To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 15 '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 blindit his e'e. 20
"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 hail, be it sleet, 25 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; 30 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 35 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! 40
"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 merrymen a'! 45 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; 50 And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm."
They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league, but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, 55 And gurly grew the sea.
The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, It was sic a deadly storm; And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn. 60
"O where will I get a gude sailor, To take my helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall topmast, To see if I can spy land?"
"O here am I, a sailor gude, 65 To take the helm in hand, Till you go up to the tall topmast,-- But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."