THE king sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking the blude-red wine o: "O whare will I get a skeely skipperTo sail this new ship of mine o?"O up and spake an eldern-knight, Sat at the king's right knee: "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailorThat ever saild the sea."Our king has written a braid letter, And seald it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand."To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway oer the faem;The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou maun bring her hame."The first word that Sir Patrick read, Sae loud, loud laughed he;The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his ee."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 hall, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the faem;The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her hame."They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, Wi' a' the speed they may;They hae landed in Noroway, Upon a Wodensday.