Our king has written a braid letter, Was walking on the strand. "To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; 'Tis thou maun bring her hame.”. The first word that Sir Patrick read. The neist word that Sir Patrick read, "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, The king's daughter of Noroway, They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may; They ha'e landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday. For I ha'e brought as much white monie, As gane my men and me, And I ha'e brought a half-fou1 of gude red goud, Out o'er the sea wi' me. Make ready, make ready, my merry-men a'! Our gude ship sails the morn.”. "Now, ever alake, my master dear, I fear a deadly storm! I saw the new moon, late yestreen, 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 topmasts lap, It was sic a deadly storm; And the waves cam o'er the broken ship, "O where will I get a gude sailor, "O here am I, a sailor gude, Till you go up to the tall top-mast; He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a boult flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in. "Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, Another o' the twine, And wap them into our ship's side, And let nae the sea come in." They fetch'd a web o' the silken claith, Another o' the twine, And they wapp'd them round that gude ship's side, The ladyes wrang their fingers white, A' for the sake of their true loves, O lang, lang, may the ladyes sit, And lang, lang, may the maidens sit, Half owre, half owre to Aberdour, And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, 9 Combs. 35. The Two Corbies. There were two corbies sat on a tree, Where shall we go and dine to-day? Shall we go dine by the wild salt sea? Shall we go dine 'neath the greenwood trec? As I sat on the deep sea sand, I saw a fair ship nigh at land, I waved my wings, I bent my beak, Come, I will show ye a sweeter sight, His blood yet on the grass is hot, His sword half-drawn, his shafts unshot, And no one kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair. His hound is to the hunting gane, His lady's away with another mate, Ye shalt sit on his white hause-bane,1 To theak yere nest when it grows bare; 2 The gowden down on his young chin O, cauld and bare will his bed be, 1 The neck-bone-a phrase for the neck. 2 Golden, CHAPTER IV. THE ELIZABETHAN POETS (INCLUDING The reign of JAMES I.). 36. GEORGE GASCOIGNE. 1530-1577. (Manual, p. 71.) THE VANITY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. They course the glass, and let it take no rest; They strive to seem, but never care to be. What grudge and grief our joys may then suppress, 37. THOMAS SACKVILLE, LORD BUCKHURST. (Manual, p. 72.) ALLEGORICAL PERSONAGES IN HELL. From the Induction to the Mirrour for Magistrates. And first within the porch and jaws of Hell 1 Stopped. |