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8 An' his name it was called young Hind Horn,

An' it's hey down down deedle airo.

5 Seven long years he served the king;
An' it's a' for the love of his daughter Jean.

7 The king an angry man was he;

He sent young Hind Horn to the sea.

9 He gave to her a silver wan'
With three singing laverocks there upon.

11 She gave to him a gay gold ring
With three bright diamonds set therein.

13 'When that ring keeps new in hue, Ye may ken that your love loves you.

15 When that ring turns pale and wan, Then I'm in love wi' another man.'

17 He left the land, and went to sea, And there seven long years staid he.

19 One day as he look'd his ring_upon, He saw the diamonds pale and wan.

21 He left the sea, and came to the lan'; An' there he met an auld beggar-man.

23 'What news, what news, my auld beggar-man?
What news, what news, by sea or by lan'?'

25 'Nae news, nae news', the beggar did say,
'But this is the king's dochter's wedding-day.'

27 Cast off, cast off thy auld beggar-weed,
An' I'll gie thee my gude gray steed.

29 The auld beggar-man got on for to ride,
But young Hind Horn is bound for the bride.

31 When he came to our gude king's gate,
He sought a drink for young Hind Horn's sake.

33 He drank out the wine, an' he dropt in the ring,
An' he bade them carry 't to the king's dochter Jean.

35 'O gat ye't by sea, or gat ye't by lan'? Or gat ye't off a dead man's han'?'

37 'I gat na't by sea, I gat na't by lan', But I gat it out of your own han'.'

89 'I'll cast off my gowns of red,
And I'll follow thee and beg my bread.

41 'I'll cast off my bridal gown,

And I'll follow thee frae town to town.'

43 'Ye need na cast off thy gowns of red; For I can maintain thee with both wine and bread.

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The king sits in Dunfermline town, The first line that Sir Patrick read,

Drinking the blue-red wine:

'O where will I get a good sailor, 4 To sail this ship of mine?'

Up and spake an elder knight, Sat at the king's right knee: "Sir Patrick Spence is the best sailor, 8 That sails upon the sea.'

The king has written a broad letter, And signed it with his hand; And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence, 12 Was walking on the sand.

A loud laugh laughed he;

The next line that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his ee.

'O who is this has done this deed, This ill deed done to me,

To sail upon the sea.
To send me out this time o' the year,

'Make haste, make haste, my merry
men all,
Our good ship sails the morn.'
'O say not so, my master dear,
For I fear a deadly storm.

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