The twa corbies

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 today?'

"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 another mate,

So we may make 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 makes mane,

But nane sall ken whare he is gane:

O'er his white banes, when they are bare,

The wind sall blaw for evermair."