"A collar, a collar," the tanner he said, "I trow it will breed sorrow; After a collar cometh a halter, I trow I'll be hanged to-morrow."--
"Be not afraid, tanner," said our king; "I tell thee, so mote I thee, Lo here I make thee the best esquire That is in the north countrie.
"For Plumpton Park I will give thee, With tenements fair beside: 'Tis worth three hundred marks by the year, To maintain thy good cow-hide."--
"Gram-ercy, my liege," the tanner replied "For the favour thou hast me shown; If ever thou comest to merry Tam-worth, Neat's leather shall clout thy shoon."
The king sits in Dumferling toune, Drinking the blude-reid wine: "O whare will I get a skeely skipper To sail this new ship of mine?"
Up and spak an eldern knicht, Sat at the king's right knee: "Sir Patrick Spens is the best sail-or That ever sailed the sea."
Our king has written a braid letter, And sealed it with his hand; And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the sand.
"To Noroway, to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou maun bring her hame."