Crack Detection and Prevention on Aircraft Paper Write a one-page paper about your findings. Include images/diagrams, as appropriate. “Sir Patrick Spence”

Crack Detection and Prevention on Aircraft Paper Write a one-page paper about your findings. Include images/diagrams, as appropriate. “Sir Patrick Spence”
The king sits in Dumferling toune,
Drinking the blude-reid wine:
“O whar wil I get guid sailor
To sail this schip of mine?”
“Late yestreen I saw the new moone,
Wi’ the auld moone in hir arme,
And I feir, I feir, my deir master,
That we will cum to harme.”
Up and spak an eldern knicht,
Sat at the kings richt kne:
“Sir Patrick spence is the best sailor
That sails upon the se.”
O our Scots nobles wer richt laith
To weet their cork-heild schoone;
Bot lang owre a’ the play wer playd,
Their hats they swam aboone.
The king has written a braid letter,
And signed it wi’ his hand,
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spence,
Was walking on the sand.
O lang, lang may their ladies sit,
Wi’ their fans into their hand,
Or ere they se Sir Patrick Spence
Cum sailing to the land.
The first line that Sir Patrick red,
A loud lauch lauched he;
The next line that Sir Patrick red,
The teir blinded his ee.
O lang, lang may the ladies stand,
Wi’ their gold kems in their hair,
Waiting for their ain deir lords,
For they’ll se thame na mair.
“O wha is this has don this deid,
This ill deid don to me,
To send me out this time o’the yeir,
To sail upon the se!
Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour,
It’s fiftie fadom deip,
And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence,
Wi’ the Scots lords at his feit.
“Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all,
Our guid schip sails the morne.”
“O say na sae my master deir,
For I feir a deadlie storme.
(continued)
Go, Lovely Rose!
by Edmund Waller
Go, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time, and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that’s young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth, Suffer her self to be desired,
And not blush so to be admired.
Then die! that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet, and fair!
(continued)

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