THE king sits in Dunfermlin town,
Sae merrily drinkin’ the wine:
‘Whare will I get a mariner,
Will sail this ship o’ mine?’

Then up bespak a bonny boy,
Sat just at the king’s knee:
‘Sir Patrick Spence is the best seaman,
That e’er set foot on sea.’

The king has written a braid letter,
Seal’d it wi’ his ain hand;
He has sent word to Sir Patrick,
To come at his command.

‘O wha is this, or wha is that,
Has tald the king o’ me?
For I was never a good seaman,
Nor ever intend to be.’