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SIR PATRICK SPENS.
They hadna stayed into that place
A month but and a day, «>
Till he caus'd the flip in mugs gae roun',
And wine in cans sae gay.
The pipe and harp sae sweetly play'd,
The trumpets loudly soun'; In every hall where in they stay'd, 55
Wi' their mirth did reboun'.
Then out it speaks an auld skipper,
An inbearing dog was hee,— " Ye've stay'd ower lang in Noroway,
Spending your king's monie." 60
Then out it speaks Sir Patrick Spens,—
" O how can a' this bee? I ha'e a bow o' guid red gowd
Into my ship wi' mee.
" But betide me well, betide me wae, e>
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, 70
Wi' five-an-fifty Scots lords' sons,
That lang'd to bee at hame.
They hadna sail'd upon the sea
A day but barely three, Till loud and boistrous grew the wind, 75
And stormy grew the sea.