As I was walking alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane untae the t'other did say, o
'Wha sall we gang and dine to-day?'
'Wha sall we gang and dine to-day?'
'It's in ahind 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
Hawk, and his hound, and his lady fair.
'His hound is tae the hunting gane,
His hawk tae fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's taen another mate,
So we mote mak our dinner sweet
We mote mak our dinner sweet.
'It ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike oot his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare
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 lies bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair
The wind sall blaw for evermair.
