Sir Patrick Spens
The King sits in Dunfermline town,
Drinking the blood-red wine;
"O where shall I get a skeely skipper
To sail this ship or mine?"
Up and spoke an ancient knight,
Sat at the King's right knee:
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That sails upon the sea."
The King has written a broad letter,
And signed it with his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the sand.
The first line that Sir Patrick read,
A loud laugh laughed he;
The next line that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his eye.
"O who is this has done this deed,
This ill deed done to me,
To send me out at this time of the year,
To sail upon the sea?
"Make haste, make haste, my merry men all,
Our good ship sails the morn."
"Now, ever alack, my master dear
I fear a deadly storm.
"Late, late yesterday evening I saw the new moon,
With the old moon in her arm,
And I fear, I fear, my dear master
That we will come to harm."
O our Scots nobles were right loath
To wet their cork-heeled shoes
But long before the play were played
Their hats they swam above.
O long, long may their ladies sit,
With their fans into their hand,
Or ever they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the land.
O long, long may the ladies stand,
With their gold combs in their hair,
Waiting for their own dear lords,
For they’ll see them no more.
Halfway over, halfway over to Aberdour,
It’s fifty fathoms deep
And there lies good Sir Patrick Spens,
With the Scots lords at his feet.
Get Up and Bar the Door
It fell about the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it was then,
When our goodwife got puddings to make,
She's boild them in the pan.
The wind sae cauld blew south and north,
And blew into the floor;
Quoth our goodman to our goodwife,
"Gae out and bar the door."
"My hand is in the hussyfskap,
Goodman, as ye may see;
An it shoud nae be barrd this hundred year,
It's no be barrd for me."
They made a