Sir Patrick Spens | Scottish folk song

Canadian folk musician Jesse Ferguson performs traditional Scottish ballad "Sir Patrick Spens" (Child 58; Roud 41). Chords and lyrics below. Support this channel on Patreon:   / jessefergusonmusic   Jesse on Apple Music:   / jesse-ferguson   Jesse on YouTube Music:    / jesse ferguson - topic   Jesse on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/5heCd... Jesse on Amazon Music: https://www.amazon.com/Shanties-Whali... Jesse's Website: http://www.jessefergusonmusic.com Jesse's Facebook:   / bardofcornwall   Sir Patrick Spens (traditional [Child 58; Roud 41], arrang. J. Ferguson, 2020) V1. C The King sits in Dunfirmline town, A#6 F C drinking the blood-red wine. C "O, Where can I get a good captain A#6 F C to sail this ship of mine?" C Then up and spoke a sailor boy, A#6 F sitting at the King's right knee: C A#6 C "Sir Patrick Spens is the best captain A#6 F C that ever sailed the sea." V2. The King he wrote a broad letter and he sealed it with his hand, sent it to Sir Patrick Spens was walking out on a strand. “To Noraway, to Noraway to Norway o'er the foam with all my lords and finery to bring my new bride home.” V3. The first line that Sir Patrick read he gave a weary sigh. The next line that Sir Patrick read the salt tear blinds his eye. “O, who is it? O, who is it has told the king of me to send us out this time of year to sail upon the sea? V4. “But rest ye well, my good men all. Our ship must sail the morn with four and twenty noble men dressed up in silk so fine. With four and twenty feather beds to lay their heads upon. Away, away, we'll all away to bring the king's bride home.” V5. “I fear, I fear, my captain dear, I fear we'll come to harm. Last night I saw the new moon clear, the old moon in her arms.” “O, be it fair or be it foul or be it deadly storm, or blow the winds where'er they will our ship must sail the morn.” V6. They hadn't sailed a day, a day, a day but only one when loud and boisterous blew the wind; it made the good ship moan. They hadn't sailed a day, a day, a day but only three when oh, the waves came o'er the sides and rolled around their knees. V7. They hadn't sailed a league, a league, a league but only five when the anchor broke, the sails were torn and the ship began to writhe. They hadn't sailed a league, a league, a league but only nine when oh, the waves came o'er the sides driving to their chins. V8. "Who will climb the topmast high while I take helm in hand? Who will climb the topmast high to see if there be dry land?" "No shore, no shore, my captain dear. I haven't seen dry land, but I have seen a lady fair with a comb and a glass in her hand." V9. "Come down, come down, you sailor boy: I think you tarry long. The salt sea's in at my coat neck and out at my left arm. Come down, come down, you sailor boy: it's here that we must die. The ship is torn at every side, and now the sea comes in." V10. Loathe, loathe were those noble lords to wet their high heeled shoes, but long before the day was o'er their hats they swam above. And many were the feather beds that fluttered on the foam. And many were those noble lords that never did come home. V11. It's fifty miles from shore to shore and fifty fathoms deep. And there lies good Sir Patrick Spens, the Scots lords all at his feet. Long, long may his lady look with a lantern in her hand before she sees her Patrick Spens come sailing home again.