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ote I thee: But they are the lords of the north countr-y, Here come to hunt with me." And soon before our king they came, And knelt down on the ground: Then might the tanner have been away, He had liever than twenty pound. "A collar, a collar, here!" said the king, "A collar!" he loud gan cry; Then would he liever than twenty pound, He had not been so nigh. "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." SIR PATRICK SPENS. 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." The first word that Sir Patrick read, A loud laugh laughed he: The neist word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his ee. "O wha is this has done this deed, And tauld the king o' me; To send us out this time o' 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
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