Ballad Book Part 10

The King has written a braid letter, And seal'd it wi' his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens Was walking on the sand.

"To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The King's daughter to Noroway, It's thou maun tak' her hame."

The first line that Sir Patrick read, A loud laugh laughed he, The neist line that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his e'e.

"O wha is this hae dune this deed, And tauld the King o' me, To send us out at this time o' the year To sail upon the sea?

"Be it wind or weet, be it hail or sleet, Our ship maun sail the faem, The King's daughter to Noroway, 'Tis we maun tak' her hame."

They hoisted their sails on Monday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; And they hae landed in Noroway Upon the Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week, In Noroway but twae, When that the lords o' Noroway Began aloud to say--

"Ye Scotsmen spend a' our King's gowd, And a' our Queenis fee."

"Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud, Sae loud's I hear ye lie!

"For I brouct as mickle white monie, As gane my men and me, And a half-fou o' the gude red gold, Out owre the sea wi' me.

"Mak' ready, mak' ready, my merry men a', Our gude ship sails the morn."

"Now ever alack, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm.

"I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And I fear, I fear, my master dear, That we sall come to harm!"

They hadna sail'd a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea.

The ropes they brak, and the top-masts lap, It was sic a deadly storm; And the waves cam' o'er the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn.

"O whaur will I get a gude sailor Will tak' the helm in hand, Until I win to the tall top-mast, And see if I spy the land?"

"It's here am I, a sailor gude, Will tak' the helm in hand, Till ye win to the tall top-mast, But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bolt flew out of the gude ship's side, And the saut sea it cam' in.

"Gae, fetch a web of the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And wap them into the gude ship's side, And let na the sea come in."

They fetched a web o' the silken claith, Anither o' the twine, And they wapp'd them into that gude ship's side, But aye the sea cam' in.

O laith, laith, were our gude Scots lords To weet their c.o.c.k-heeled shoon, But lang ere a' the play was o'er They wat their hats abune.

O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords To weet their milk-white hands, But lang ere a' the play was played They wat their gouden bands.

O lang, lang may the ladies sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Or ever they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the land.

O lang, lang may the maidens sit, Wi' their gowd kaims in their hair, A' waiting for their ain dear loves, For them they'll see nae mair.

Half owre, half owre to Aberdour, It's fifty fathom deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURNE.

It fell about the Lammas tide, When muirmen win their hay, That the doughty Earl of Douglas rade Into England to fetch a prey.

And he has ta'en the Lindsays light, With them the Gordons gay; But the Jardines wad not with him ride, And they rue it to this day.

Then they hae harried the dales o' Tyne, And half o' Bambrough-shire, And the Otter-dale they burned it haill, And set it a' on fire.

Then he cam' up to New Castel, And rade it round about: "O who is the lord of this castel, Or who is the lady o't?"

But up and spake Lord Percy then, And O but he spake hie: "It's I am the lord of this castel, My wife is the lady gay."

"If thou'rt the lord of this castel, Sae weel it pleases me!

For ere I cross the Border fell, The tane of us shall dee."--

He took a lang spear in his hand, Shod with the metal free; And forth to meet the Douglas then, He rade richt furiouslie.

But O how pale his lady looked Frae aff the castle wa', As doun before the Scottish spear She saw proud Percy fa'!

"Had we twa been upon the green, And never an eye to see, I wad hae had you, flesh and fell, But your sword shall gae wi' me."

"Now gae up to the Otterburne, And bide there dayis three, And gin I come not ere they end, A fause knight ca' ye me!"

"The Otterburne is a bonnie burn, 'Tis pleasant there to be; But there is nought at Otterburne To feed my men and me.

"The deer rins wild on hill and dale, The birds fly wild frae tree to tree; But there is neither bread nor kale, To fend my men and me.

"Yet I will stay at the Otterburne, Where you shall welcome be; And, if ye come not at three dayis end, A fause lord I'll ca' thee."

"Thither will I come," Earl Percy said, By the might of our Ladye!"

"There will I bide thee," said the Douglas, "My troth I plight to thee!"

They lichted high on Otterburne, Upon the bent sae broun; They lichted high on Otterburne, And pitched their pallions doun.

And he that had a bonnie boy, He sent his horse to gra.s.s; And he that had not a bonnie boy, His ain servant he was.

Then up and spake a little boy, Was near of Douglas' kin-- "Methinks I see an English host Come branking us upon!

"Nine wargangs beiring braid and wide, Seven banners beiring high; It wad do any living gude, To see their colours fly!"

"If this be true, my little boy, That thou tells unto me, The brawest bower o' the Otterburne Sall be thy morning fee.

"But I hae dreamed a dreary dream, Ayont the Isle o' Skye,-- I saw a deid man win a fight, And I think that man was I."

He belted on his gude braid-sword, And to the field he ran; But he forgot the hewmont strong, That should have kept his brain.

When Percy wi' the Douglas met, I wot he was fu' fain: They swakkit swords, and they twa swat, Till the blude ran down like rain.