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‹‹‹ prev (334) [Page 40][Page 40]Sir Patrick Spence

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(41) [Page 41] - Runa of the Finlanders
The Wing has written a braid letter,
And fignd it wi* his hand;
\nd fent it to fir Patrick Spence,.
Was walking on the fand.
The first line that fir Patrick red",
A loud lauch lauched he;
The next line that fir Patrick red
The teir blinded his ee.
•O <juha- is this has don this, deid,
This ill deid don to me;
To fend me out this time o* the zeir,
To ; fail- upon the fe?
Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all.
Our guid fchip fails the worne.
O f»y na fae, my master deir,
For I feir a deadlie itorme.
Late iat»i yestreen T saw the new moon<
Wi' the auld nioonc in her arme;
And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
That we will come to harme.
■ O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
To weet their cork heild schoone;
Bot lang owre a the play wer playd,
Thair hats the} swam aboone.
O lang, lang, may thair ladies sit
Wi* thair fans into thair hand.
Or eir they see sir Patrick Spence
Cum sailing to the land.
O lang, lang, may the ladies stand,
Wi thair gold kerns in thair hair,
Waiting for thair ain deir lords,
For they'll se thame na mair.
Ha'f owre, ha f owre to Aberdour
Its fiftie fadom deip:
And thair lies guid sir Patrick Spence,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feit.
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