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"To Noroway, to Noroway,
To Noroway o'er the faem;
The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis thou maun bring her hame."

The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Sae loud loud laughed he;

The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his ee.

"Oh wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o' me,

To send us out, at this time of the year,

To sail upon the sea?

"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,

Our ship must sail the faem;

The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her hame."

They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,
Wi' a' the speed they may;

They hae landed in Noroway

Upon a Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week
In Noroway, but twae,

When that the lords o' Noroway
Began aloud to say-

"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud,

And a' our queenis fee."

"Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!

Fu' loud I hear ye lie;

"For I hae brought as much white monie, As gane1 my men and me,

And I hae brought a half-fou 2 of gude red goud, Out o'er the sea wi' me.

Suffice.

2 The eighth part of a peck.

"Make ready, make ready, my merry men a'!

Our gude ship sails the morn." "Now, ever alake, my master dear,

I fear a deadly storm!

"I saw the new moon, late yestreen,
Wi' the auld moon in her arm;
And, if we gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm.”

They hadna sail'd a league, a league,
A league but barely three,

When the lift 1 grew dark, and the wind blew loud,

And gurly grew the sea.

The anchors brak, and the topmasts lap,2

It was sic a deadly storm;

And the waves cam o'er the broken ship,
Till a' her sides were torn.

"Oh where will I get a gude sailor,
To take my helm in hand,
Till I get up to the tall top-mast,
To see if I can spy land?”

"Oh here am I, a sailor gude,
To take the helm in hand,
Till you go up to the tall top-mast;
But I fear you 'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna gane a step, a step,

A step but barely ane,

When a bout flew out of our goodly ship,
And the salt sea it came in.

Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith,
Another o' the twine,

And wap3 them into our ship's side,
And let na the sea come in."

1 Sky.

2 Sprang.

3 Wrap or swaddle.

They fetch'd a web o' the silken claith,

Another o' the twine,

And they wapp'd them round that gude ship's side, But still the sea came in.

Oh laith, laith,1 were our gude Scots lords
To weet their cork-heel'd shoon ;
But lang or a' the play was play'd,
They wat their hats aboon.

And mony was the feather bed,
That floated on the faem;
And mony was the gude lord's son
That never mair cam hame.

The ladyes wrang their fingers white,
The maidens tore their hair,
A' for the sake of their true loves,-
For them they'll see nae mair.

Oh lang, lang may the ladyes sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand,
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the strand!

And lang, lang may the maidens sit,
With their goud kaims in their hair,
A' waiting for their ain dear loves!
For them they'll see nae mair.

Half owre, half owre to Aberdour,
'Tis fifty fathoms deep,

And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet!

1 Reluctant.

JOHNIE ARMSTRANG.

"JOHNIE ARMSTRONG of Gilnockie, the hero of the following ballad, is a noted personage, both in history and tradition. He was, it would seem from the ballad, a brother of the laird of Mangertoun, chief of the name. His place of residence was at the Hallows, a few miles from Langholm, where its ruins still serve to adorn a scene, which, in natural beauty, has few equals in Scotland. At the head of a desperate band of freebooters, this Armstrong is said to have spread the terror of his name almost as far as Newcastle, and to have levied black mail, or protection and forbearance money, for many miles round. James V., of whom it was long remembered by his grateful people that he made the 'rush-bush keep the cow,' about 1529, undertook an expedition through the border counties, to suppress the turbulent spirit of the marchmen, But, before setting out upon his journey, he took the precaution of imprisoning the different Border chieftains, who were the chief protectors of the marauders. The Earl of Bothwell was forfeited, and confined in Edinburgh Castle. The lords of Home and Maxwell, the lairds of Buccleuch, Fairniherst, and Johnston, with many others, were also committed to ward. Cockburn of Henderland, and Adam Scott of Tushielaw, called the King of the Border, were publicly executed. The king then marched rapidly forward, at the head of a flying army of ten thousand men, through Ettrick forest and Ewsdale. The evil genius of our Johnie Armstrong, or, as others say, the private advice of some courtiers, prompted him to present himself before James, at the head of thirty-six horse, arrayed in all the pomp of Border chivalry. Pitscottie uses nearly the words of the ballad in describing the splendour of his equipment, and his high expectations of favour from the king. But James, looking upon him sternly, said to his attendants, What wants that knave that a king shou'd have? and ordered him and his followers to instant execution.'-' But John Armstrong,' continues this minute historian, 'made great offers to the king: that he should sustain himself, with forty gentlemen, ever ready at his service, on their own cost, without wronging any Scotchman; secondly, that there was not a subject in England, duke, earl, or baron, but, within a certain day, he should bring him to his majesty, either quick or dead. At length he, seeing no hope of favour, said very proudly, "It is folly to seek grace at a graceless face: but," said he, “had I known this, I should have lived upon the Border in despite of king Harry and you both; for I know king Harry would downweigh my best horse with gold to know that I were condemned to die this day."-Pitscottie. Johnie, with all his retinue, was accordingly hanged upon growing trees, at a place called Carlenrig chapel, about ten miles above Hawick, on the high road to Langholm. The country people believe, that, to manifest the injustice of the execution, the trees withered away. Armstrong and his followers were buried in a deserted churchyard, where their graves are still shown. As this Border hero was a person of great note in his way, he is frequently alluded to by the writers of the time. Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, in the curious play published by Mr Pinkerton, from the Bannatyne MS., introduces a pardoner, or knavish dealer in reliques, who produces, among his holy rarities

'The cordis, baith grit and lang, Quhilt hangit Johnie Armistrang,

Of gude hemp, soft and sound.

Gude haly pepill, I stand ford,
Whaevir beis hangit in this cord,

Neidis never to be drowned!'

Pinkerton's Scottish Poems.

In The Complaynt of Scotland, John Armistrangis' dance, mentioned as a popular tune, has probably some reference to our hero. The common people of the high parts of Teviotda'e, Liddesdale, and the country adjacent, hold

the memory of Johnie Armstrong in very high respect. They affirm also, that one of his attendants broke through the king's guard, and carried to Gilnockie Tower the news of the bloody catastrophe.

"This song was first published by Allan Ramsay, in his Evergreen, who says he copied it from the mouth of a gentleman called Armstrong, who was in the sixth generation from this John. The reciter assured him that this was the genuine old ballad, the common one false."—

Scott's Minstrelsy.

SOME speikis of lords, some speikis of lairds,
And sic lyke men of hie degrie;

Of a gentleman I sing a sang,

Sum tyme called laird of Gilnockie.

The king he wrytes a luving letter,
With his ain hand sae tenderly,
And he hath sent it to Johnie Armstrang,
To cum and speik with him speedily.

The Elliots and Armstrangs did convene;
They were a gallant companie-
"We'll ride and meit our lawful king,
And bring him safe to Gilnockie."

"Make kinnen 1 and capon ready then,
And venison in great plentie;
We'll welcum here our royal king;
I hope he'll dine at Gilnockie!"

They ran their horse on the Langholme howm,
And brak their spears wi' mickle main ; 2
The ladies lukit frae their loft windows-
"God bring our men weel back agen!

When Johnie cam' before the king,
Wi' a' his men, sae brave to see,
The king he movit his bonnet to him;
He ween'd he was a king as well as he.

"May I find grace, my sovereign liege,
Grace for
my loyal men and me?
For my name it is Johnie Armstrang,
And subject of yours, my liege," said he.

1 Rabbits.

2 Great force.

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