- The king sits in Dumfermline toun, Sae merrilie drinking wine; O Says, Whare will I get a fine skipper, Wud sail these ships of mine? O
- Out and spak an auld rich knicht, And an ill death may he die’ Says, Young Patrick is the best skipper That ever set sail on sea.
- The king did write a lang letter, Sealed it with his own hand, And he sent it to Young Patrick, To come at his command.
- When Young Patrick read the letter lang, The tear blindit his ee; Says Wha is this, or wha is that, That’s tauld the king of me? Altho he had been better than what he is, He micht hae askt leave of me.
- ‘But busk, O busk, my merry men a’, O busk and mak you braw, For blaw the wind what airt it will, Our ship she must awa.
- ‘Drink, O drink, my merrie men all, Drink o the beer and wine, For gin Wedensday by twal o’clock We’ll a’ be in our lang hame.’
- Out and spak a pretty little boy: ‘I fear a deadlie storm; For I saw the new mune late yestreen, And the old ane in her arm, And readilie, maister,’ said he, ‘That’s the sign of a deadly storm.’
- Aye they sat, and aye they drank, They drank of the beer and wine, And gin Wedensday gin ten o’clock, Their hair was wat abune.
- ‘Whare wuld I get a pretty little boy, That wants to win hose and shoon, Wuld up to the top of my mainmast go, See if he could spy land?’
- ‘O here am I, a pretty little boy, Wants to win hose and shoon; I’ll up to the top of your mainmast go, Though I should neer come doun.’
- ‘Come doun, come doun, my pretty little boy, I think thou tarries lang; For the jawe is coming in at my coat-neck, Going out at my richt hand.’
- But there cum a shouir out o the Norewest, Of dreidfu hail and rain, It made Young Patrick and his men A’ flat wi the sea faem.
- O is na it a great pitye To see feather-beds on the main? But it is a greater pitye, I think, To see men doing the same.
- There’s a brig at the back o Sanct John’s toun, It’s fifty fadom deep, And there lies a’ our brau Scots lords, Young Patrick’s at their feet.
- Young Patrick’s lady sits at hame, She’s sewing her silken seam; And aye when she looks to the salt sea waves, ‘I fear he’ll neer return.’
- Young Patrick’s lady sits at hame Rocking her oldest son; And aye when she looks to the salt sea waves, ‘I’m feared he’ll neer come hame.’
No: 58; variant: 58E
Source: Motherwell's MS., p. 348.