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A New Old Ballad
THE WIND it blew, and the ship it flew; | |
| And it was “Hey for hame! | |
| And ho for hame!” But the skipper cried, | |
| “Haud her oot o’er the saut sea faem.” | |
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| Then up and spoke the King himsel’: | 5 |
| “Haud on for Dumferline!” | |
| Quo the skipper, “Ye ’re king upo’ the land— | |
| I’m king upo’ the brine.” | |
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| And he took the helm intil his hand, | |
| And he steered the ship sae free; | 10 |
| Wi’ the wind astarn, he crowded sail, | |
| And stood right out to sea. | |
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| Quo the king, “There ’s treason in this I vow: | |
| This is something underhand! | |
| ’Bout ship!” Quo the skipper, “Yer grace forgets | 15 |
| Ye are king but o’ the land!” | |
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| And still he held to the open sea; | |
| And the east-wind sank behind; | |
| And the west had a bitter word to say, | |
| Wi’ a white-sea roarin’ wind. | 20 |
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| And he turned her head into the north. | |
| Said the king: “Gar fling him o’er.” | |
| Quo the fearless skipper: “It ’s a’ ye ’re worth! | |
| Ye ’ll ne’er see Scotland more.” | |
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| The king crept down the cabin-stair, | 25 |
| To drink the gude French wine. | |
| And up she came, his daughter fair, | |
| And luikit ower the brine. | |
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| She turned her face to the drivin’ hail, | |
| To the hail but and the weet; | 30 |
| Her snood it brak, and, as lang ’s hersel’, | |
| Her hair drave out i’ the sleet. | |
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| She turned her face frae the drivin’ win’— | |
| “What ’s that ahead?” quo she. | |
| The skipper he threw hansel’ frae the win’, | 35 |
| And he drove the helm a-lee. | |
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| “Put to yer hand, my lady fair! | |
| Put to yer hand,” quo he; | |
| “Gin she dinna face the win’ the mair, | |
| It ’s the waur for you and me.” | 40 |
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| For the skipper kenned that strength is strength, | |
| Whether woman’s or man’s at last. | |
| To the tiller the lady she laid her han’, | |
| And the ship laid her cheek to the blast. | |
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| For that slender body was full o’ soul, | 45 |
| And the will is mair than shape; | |
| As the skipper saw when they cleared the berg, | |
| And he heard her quarter scrape. | |
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| Quo the skipper: “Ye are a lady fair, | |
| And a princess grand to see; | 50 |
| But ye are a woman, and a man wad sail | |
| To hell in yer company.” | |
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| She liftit a pale and queenly face; | |
| Her een flashed, and syne they swim. | |
| “And what for no to heaven?” she says, | 55 |
| And she turned awa’ frae him. | |
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| But she took na her han’ frae the good ship’s helm, | |
| Until the day did daw; | |
| And the skipper he spak, but what he said | |
| It was said atween them twa. | 60 |
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| And then the good ship she lay to, | |
| With the land far on the lee; | |
| And up came the king upo’ the deck, | |
| Wi’ wan face and bluidshot ee. | |
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| The skipper he louted to the king: | 65 |
| “Gae wa’, gae wa’,” said the king. | |
| Said the king, like a prince, “I was a’ wrang, | |
| Put on this ruby ring.” | |
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| And the wind blew lowne, and the stars cam’ oot, | |
| And the ship turned to the shore; | 70 |
| And, afore the sun was up again, | |
| They saw Scotland ance more. | |
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| That day the ship hung at the pier-heid, | |
| And the king he stept on the land. | |
| “Skipper, kneel down,” the king he said, | 75 |
| “Hoo daur ye afore me stand?” | |
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| The skipper he louted on his knee, | |
| The king his blade he drew: | |
| Said the king, “How daured ye contre me? | |
| I ’m aboard my ain ship noo. | 80 |
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| “I canna mak ye a king,” said he, | |
| “For the Lord alone can do that; | |
| And besides ye took it intil yer ain han’ | |
| And crooned yersel’ sae pat! | |
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| “But wi’ what ye will I redeem my ring; | 85 |
| For ance I am at your beck. | |
| And first, as ye loutit Skipper o’ Doon, | |
| Rise up Yerl o’ Quarterdeck.” | |
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| The skipper he rose and looked at the king | |
| In his een for all his croon; | 90 |
| Said the skipper, “Here is yer grace’s ring, | |
| And yer daughter is my boon.” | |
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| The reid blude sprang into the king’s face,— | |
| A wrathful man to see: | |
| “The rascal loon abuses our grace; | 95 |
| Gae hang him upon yon tree.” | |
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| But the skipper he sprang aboard his ship, | |
| And he drew his biting blade; | |
| And he struck the chain that held her fast, | |
| But the iron was ower weel made. | 100 |
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| And the king he blew a whistle loud; | |
| And tramp, tramp, down the pier, | |
| Cam’ twenty riders on twenty steeds, | |
| Clankin’ wi’ spur and spear. | |
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| “He saved your life!” cried the lady fair; | 105 |
| “His life ye daurna spill!” | |
| “Will ye come atween me and my hate?” | |
| Quo the lady, “And that I will!” | |
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| And on cam’ the knights wi’ spur and spear, | |
| For they heard the iron ring. | 110 |
| “Gin ye care na for yer father’s grace, | |
| Mind ye that I am the king.” | |
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| “I kneel to my father for his grace, | |
| Right lowly on my knee; | |
| But I stand and look the king in the face, | 115 |
| For the skipper is king o’ me.” | |
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| She turned and she sprang upo’ the deck, | |
| And the cable splashed in the sea. | |
| The good ship spread her wings sae white, | |
| And away with the skipper goes she. | 120 |
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| Now was not this a king’s daughter, | |
| And a brave lady beside? | |
| And a woman with whom a man might sail | |
| Into the heaven wi’ pride? | |
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