As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say-o,
‘Where sall we gang and dine to-day-o?'
‘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-o,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair-o.
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-o,
So we may mak our dinner sweet-o.
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 hair-o
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare-o.
We'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-o,
The wind sall blaw for evermair-o.'
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'