As I was walking all alane,I heard twa corbies making a mane;The tane unto the t'other say,"Where sall we gang and dine to-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 lady fair.
"His hound is to the hunting gane,His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame;His lady's ta'en another mate,So we may mak our dinner sweet.
"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;Wi ae lock o his gowden hairWe'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
"Mony a one for him makes mane,But nane sall ken where he is gane;Oer his white banes, when they are bare,The wind sall blaw for evermair."
