They hoisted their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; And 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 Began aloud to say--

'Ye Scotisman spend a' our king's gowd, And a' our queenis fee.'

'Ye lee, ye lee, ye leears loud, Sae loud's I hear ye lee!

'For I brought as much o' the white monie As gane my men and me, And a half-fou o' the gude red gowd, Out owre the sea with me.

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

'O say na sae, my master dear, I fear a deadlie storm.

'I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll 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 ankers brak, and the tap-masts lap, It was sic a deadlie storm; And the waves cam' owre the broken ship, Till a' her sides were torn.

'O whare will I get a gude sailor Will tak' the helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall tap-mast, To see if I can spy land.'

'O here am I, a sailor gude, To tak' the helm in hand, Till ye get up to the tall tap-mast, But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land.'

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

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

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

O laith, laith were our Scots lords' sons To weet their coal-black shoon, But lang ere a' the play was play'd, They wat their hats abune.

And mony was the feather-bed That fluttered on the faem, And mony was the gude lord's son That never mair cam' hame.

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

And lang, lang may the maidens sit, Wi' the 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 'Tis fifty fathom deep, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

THE BEGGAR'S DAUGHTER OF BEDNALL-GREEN

PART I

It was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight, He had a fair daughter of beauty most bright; And many a gallant brave suitor had she, For none was so comely as pretty Bessee.

And though she was of favour most faire, Yet seeing she was but a poor beggar's heyre, Of ancyent housekeepers despised was she, Whose sons came as suitors to pretty Bessee.

Wherefore in great sorrow fair Bessy did say, Good father, and mother, let me go away To seek out my fortune, whatever it be, This suite then they granted to pretty Bessee.

Then Bessy, that was of beauty so bright, All cladd in grey russet, and late in the night From father and mother alone parted she, Who sighed and sobbed for pretty Bessee.

She went till she came to Stratford-le-Bow; Then knew she not whither, nor which way to go: With tears she lamented her hard destine, So sad and so heavy was pretty Bessee.

She kept on her journey until it was day, And went unto Rumford along the high way; Where at the Queen's arms entertained was she: So fair and well-favoured was pretty Bessee.

She had not been there a month to an end, But master and mistress and all was her friend: And every brave gallant, that once did her see, Was straightway enamour'd of pretty Bessee.

Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold, And in their songs daily her love was extolled; Her beauty was blazed in every degree; So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee.

The young men of Rumford in her had their joy She showed herself courteous, and modestly coy; And at her commandment still would they be; So fair and so comely was pretty Bessee.

Four suitors at once unto her did go; They craved her favour, but still she said no; I would not wish gentles to marry with me; Yet ever they honoured pretty Bessee.

The first of them was a gallant young knight, And he came unto her disguised in the night: The second a gentleman of good degree, Who wooed and sued for pretty Bessee.

A merchant of London, whose wealth was not small, He was the third suitor, and proper withal: Her master's own son the fourth man must be, Who swore he would die for pretty Bessee.

And, if thou wilt marry with me, quoth the knight, I'll make thee a lady with joy and delight; My heart's so enthralled by thy beautie, That soon I shall die for pretty Bessee.

The gentleman said, Come, marry with me, As fine as a lady my Bessy shall be: My life is distressed: O hear me, quoth he; And grant me thy love, my pretty Bessee.

Let me be thy husband, the merchant did say, Thou shalt live in London both gallant and gay; My ships shall bring home rich jewels for thee, And I will for ever love pretty Bessee.

Then Bessy she sighed, and thus she did say, My father and mother I mean to obey; First get their good will, and be faithful to me, And then you shall marry your pretty Bessee.

To every one this answer she made, Wherefore unto her they joyfully said, This thing to fulfil we all do agree; But where dwells thy father, my pretty Bessee?

My father, she said, is soon to be seen: The silly blind beggar of Bednall-green, That daily sits begging for charite, He is the good father of pretty Bessee.

His marks and his tokens are known very well; He always is led with a dog and a bell: A silly old man, G.o.d knoweth, is he, Yet he is the father of pretty Bessee.

Nay then, quoth the merchant, thou art not for me.

Nor, quoth the innholder, my wife thou shalt be: I loth, said the gentle, a beggar's degree, And therefore adieu, my pretty Bessee.

Why then, quoth the knight, hap better or worse, I weigh not true love by the weight of the purse, And beauty is beauty in every degree; Then welcome unto me, my pretty Bessee.

With thee to thy father forthwith I will go.

Nay soft, quoth his kinsmen, it must not be so; A poor beggar's daughter no lady shall be, Then take thy adieu of pretty Bessee.

But soon after this, by break of the day The knight had from Rumford stole Bessy away.

The young men of Rumford, as thick as might be, Rode after to fetch again pretty Bessee.

As swift as the wind to ryde they were seen, Until they came near unto Bednall-green; And as the knight lighted most courteousle, They all fought against him for pretty Bessee.

But rescue came speedily over the plain, Or else the young knight for his love had been slain.

This fray being ended, then straightway he see His kinsmen come railing at pretty Bessee.