'O where ha you been, Lord
Randal, my son?
And where ha you been, my handsome young man?'
'I ha been at the greenwood;
mother mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down'
'An wha met ye there, Lord
Randal, my son?
An wha met you there, my handsome young man?'
'O I met wi my true-love;
mother, mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
'And what did she give you,
Lord Randal, my son?
And what did she give you, my handsome young man?'
'Eels fried in a pan; mother
mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
'And wha gat your leavins,
Lord Randal, my son?
And wha gat your leavins, my handsome young man?'
'My hawks and my hounds; mother
mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
'And what became of them,
Lord Randal, my son?
And what became of them, my handsome young man?'
'They stretched their legs
out and died; mother mak my bed soon,
For I'm wearied wi hunting, and fain wad lie down.'
'O I fear you are poisoned,
Lord Randal, my son!'
I fear you are poisoned, my handsome young man!'
'O yes, I am poisoned;
mother mak my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
'What d'ye leave to your
mother, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your mother, my handsome young man?'
'Four and twenty milk kye;
mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
'What d'ye leave to your
sister, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your sister, my handsome young man?'
'My gold and my silver;
mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
'What d'ye leave to your
brother, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your brother, my handsome young man?'
'My houses and my lands;
mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
'What d'ye leave to your
true-love, Lord Randal, my son?
What d'ye leave to your true-love, my handsome young man?'
'I leave her hell and fire;
mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain wad lie down.'
1.
There lived a wife at
Usher’s Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and
stalwart sons,
And sent them o’er the sea.
2.
They hadna been a week from
her,
A week but barely ane,
When word came to the carlin
wife
That her three sons were
gane.
3.
They hadna been a week from
her,
A week but barely three,
When word came to the carlin
wife
That her sons she’d never
see.
4.
“I wish the wind will never
cease,
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come home
to me,
In earthly flesh and blood.”
5.
It fell about Martinmass,
When nights are long and
mirk,
The carlin wife’s three sons
came hame,
And their hats were o’ the
birk.
6.
It neither grew in syke nor
ditch,
Nor yet in any sheugh;
But at the gates o’
Paradise,
That birk grew fair eneugh.
7.
“Blow up the fire, my
maidens,
Bring water from the well;
For a’ my house shall feast
this night,
Since my three sons are
well.”
8.
And she has made to them a
bed,
She’s made it large and
wide,
And she’s ta’en her mantle
her about,
Sat down at the bed-side.
9.
Up then crew the red, red
cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest
said,
“ ‘Tis time we were awa’.”
10.
The cock he hadna crawed but
once,
And clapped his wings at ‘a,
When the youngest to the
eldest said,
“Brother, we must awa’.”
11.
“The cock doth craw, the day
doth daw,
The channerin’ worm doth
chide;
Gin we be missed out o’ our
place,
A sair pain we maun bide.
12.
“Fare ye weel, my mother
dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, the bonny
lass,
That kindles my mother’s
fire!”
1.
The king sits in Dumferling
town,
Drinking the blude-reid
wine:
“O whar will I get guid
sailor,
To sail this ship of mine?”
2.
Up and spak an eldern
knicht,
Sat at the king’s richt
knee:
“Sir Patrick Spens is the
best sailor
That sails upon the sea.”
3.
The king has written a braid
letter
And signed it wi’ his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick
Spens
Was walking on the sand.
4.
The first line that Sir
Patrick read,
A loud lauch lauched he;
The next line that Sir
Patrick read,
The tear blinded his ee.
5.
“O wha is this has done this deed.
This ill deed done to me,
To send me out this time o’
the year,
To sail upon the sea?
6.
“Mak haste, mak haste, my
mirry men all,
Our guid ship sails the
morn.”
“O say na sae, my master
dear,
For I fear a deadly storm.
7.
“late, late yestre’en I saw
the new moon
Wi’ the auld moon in hir
arm,
And I fear, I fear, my dear
master,
That we will come to harm.”
8.
O our Scot nobles were richt
laith
To weet their cork-heeled
shoon,
But lang or a’ the play were
played
There hats they swam aboon.
9.
O lang, lang may their
ladies sit,
Wi’ their fans into their
hand,
Or ere they see Sir Patrick
Spens
Come sailing to the land.
10.
O lang, lang may the ladies
stand
Wi’ their gold kems in their
hair,
Waiting for their ain dear
lords,
For they’ll see them na
mair.
11.
Half o’er, half o’er to Aberdour
It’s fifty fadom deep,
And there lies guid Sir
Patrick Spens
Wi’ the Scots lords at his
feet.