The Twa Corbies Anonymous
As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies makin’ a mane:
The tane unto tither did say,
‘Whar sall we gang and dine the day?’
‘In behint yon auld fail dyke
I wot there lies a new-slain knight:
And naebody kens that he lies there
But his hawk, his hound and his lady fair.
His hound is to the hunting gane
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady’s ta’en anither mate,
So we may mak’ our dinner sweet.
Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I’ll pike out his bonny blue e’en:
Wi’ ae lock o’ his gowden hair
We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare.
Many a one for him maks mane,
But nane shall ken whar he is gane:
O’er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.’
Corbies-crows: fail-turf: hause-bane-